


Waiting On You

by emma1234



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Detective Harry, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Human Louis, Human Trafficking, Light Bondage, M/M, Rimming, Smut, Teacher Louis, Top Harry, Vampire Harry, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 10:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 76,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10965777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma1234/pseuds/emma1234
Summary: “Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.





	1. Chapter One

“Niall, you can’t put six tacos on your plate before Zayn’s even taken one,” Liam says exasperatedly, hip bumping Niall in an attempt to get him away from the plate of taco shells.

Niall shoots Liam a look of complete and utter betrayal. 

“I’m a human being, Liam. I need the sustenance, unlike that broody blood drinker over there,” Niall explains, gesturing lazily in Zayn’s direction, but he gives up on his quest to take the last taco shell and begins filling the ones already on his plate. Zayn raises his eyebrows as he plucks up the last remaining shell, but doesn’t say anything.

“Nobody _needs_ six tacos,” Louis butts in. He earns himself a glare from Liam for talking with his mouth full, which seems unnecessarily harsh considering Louis is taking his side in this argument. 

Louis has been settled down at the rickety table for several minutes already, so he’s happily munching away at his tacos while his friends serve themselves. There are only two days left before Louis needs to make a final decision on what play his drama students will perform this year, and he keeps running through the options during his lunch break rather than actually eating, so he was too hungry to wait for the others before digging in. 

“This coming from the guy who is barely taking the time to chew his food before swallowing,” Niall says accusingly, pointing the fork in his hand at Louis. Louis just shrugs and takes another bite.

He tunes out the bickering until Liam, Zayn, and Niall finally take their places at the table and begin digging in themselves. They’re all quite hungry aside from Zayn, who like most vampires, mostly eats because he’s used to the routine of it and he enjoys the taste. Not as much as the taste of blood, of course, but come on. Who can resist tacos?

They don’t talk much for most of the time that they’re eating, far too focused on stuffing their faces, and Louis himself doesn’t say another word until his tacos are gone completely. Once he’s focused his attention on the salad that Liam brought to try and give the appearance that they’re eating a well-balanced meal, he begins to speak.

“So say you were me and you had to decide between doing _Grease_ and _Fame_. Which would you choose?” Louis asks thoughtfully, fork halfway to his mouth.

The exaggerated groans that his friends offer in response are so in sync that one might think they were coordinated. Louis narrows his eyes. 

“Lou, you know I love you, but if you ask us our opinion on the school play one more time, I’m going to throw you out the window.” Zayn gives him a sweet smile as though that’s going to dull the rudeness of his threat.

“Fuck you,” Louis hisses, pushing the bowl of salad away from him. “I’m freaking out about this and none of you are being helpful. This is the most important decision I make all year!”

Liam raises one finger as if requesting permission to speak, so Louis looks at him expectantly.

“Last time I answered with something other than _Grease_ , you didn’t talk to me for over 24 hours. You didn’t even talk to me when I came in to supervise your class. Can you imagine if your students had noticed you were ignoring the vice-principal? It could have eroded my carefully cultivated authority.” 

Louis and Zayn both snort at that, but Liam pushes on. “So you’ll understand if we’re all a bit cautious about answering these questions considering your, um — how do I phrase this?”

“Volatility?” Zayn suggests. Louis flips him off.

“Yes, exactly — your volatility when it comes to this topic. We love you and we’re here for you, but I’m sure you’ll make the right decision all on your own,” Liam finishes by offering Louis what he probably thinks is an encouraging smile. 

“Why are we pretending he’ll choose any play other than _Grease_?” Niall asks Zayn in a poor attempt at a whisper.

“Anyway,” Zayn butts in before Louis has the chance to snap back at Niall. “Only two more days until the weekend, right? You’ll have made your decision by then and you’ll have all weekend to unwind.” 

Louis hums thoughtfully and tips his chair back, balancing on two legs in a way that he knows makes Liam anxious.

“You know what I need?” Louis asks.

The looks on his friends’ faces suggest that not only do they not know what he needs, but they also do not want to know. Louis continues anyway.

“I need to get laid.” Louis answers his own question and settles his chair back down on all four legs. “It’s been fucking ages and I desperately need to relieve some of this tension.” 

Niall immediately fist pumps, excited by the prospect of going out considering he’s been begging Louis to bar hop with him for nearly a month straight. Zayn just rolls his eyes and glances down at his phone, probably to text his girlfriend back. Zayn almost never goes out with them these days, so Louis knows that he’ll probably tune the rest of this conversation out. Liam, however, gives Louis a look of horror.

“No way,” he says, slapping one hand down on the table firmly. “Haven’t you guys seen the news?”

Louis looks at Niall with confusion and sees a similar expression looking back at him. 

“I read the Huffpost every morning,” Louis huffs. He’s a teacher, for fuck’s sake, and Niall may be a golf instructor, but he always stays informed about politics. Quite frankly, Liam’s question is insulting.

“I love the New York Times,” Niall adds unhelpfully, but Liam just rolls his eyes.

“No, you idiots, I mean the local news,” Liam explains, and Louis laughs before shaking his head. He’s too grumpy and out of it in the mornings to want to turn on the TV, and once his favorite shows are over at night and the local 11PM news begins, he and Niall usually hightail out of the living room and go to bed. 

“A bunch of people have gone missing from bars in DC and the cops haven’t figured out who’s responsible yet. Well, they’re pretty sure it’s a vampire, obviously, but they don’t know beyond that,” Liam explains.

Zayn finally looks up from his phone and frowns. “Yeah, I wasn’t thinking about that, but he’s right. You shouldn’t go to a bar by yourselves right now. Not until the cops catch whoever’s taking these people.” 

Louis stands up and begins collecting the empty plates scattered around the table, stacking them neatly so they can be moved to the kitchen. “Or,” Louis suggests, picking the stack up and giving Zayn a dazzling smile. “You can come with us to the bar and your big bad self can protect us. Or more accurately, your small bad self.” He eyes Zayn’s petite frame skeptically.

Zayn gives Louis a look that says, _I could throw you across the room with my pinky finger if I wanted to._ Louis’ eye twitches slightly, but he manages to keep the smile on his face and stares Zayn down. Finally, Zayn sighs.

“Fine,” he concedes, standing up himself and gathering up their drink glasses. “But I’m only doing this because another week without you getting laid is going to be unbearable for us all.”

Louis resents that statement, even more so when Niall and Liam both nod their heads in agreement, but he refrains from voicing his disagreement because he doesn’t want them to change their minds. Three humans, a vampire babysitter, and a night out with lots of alcohol and good sex is exactly what Louis needs to distract himself from all the work stress. 

Louis follows Zayn into the kitchen, pulls open the door of the dishwasher, and begins loading it. Zayn helps by handing Louis the dishes, though it would probably be just as easy for Louis to pick them up off the counter himself.

“By the way,” Zayn says when he’s finished handing Louis the last glass. “I’m going to bring some friends when we go out.” 

Louis eyes Zayn suspiciously. “Vampire friends?”

Zayn nods. “Yeah. One’s a guy I met at a bar a couple of decades ago and he’ll probably bring some of his friends from work. I haven’t seen him in ages and this is the perfect opportunity. They’re all detectives on the police force, actually, so my weak little human friends will be super safe.” He gives Louis a condescending smirk.

Louis elbows Zayn in the side and tries not to wince at how much it hurts. 

“My hero,” he says sarcastically, batting his long eyelashes in the vampire’s direction. 

Zayn just chuckles and wraps his arm around Louis’ shoulder, leading him into the living room. Louis settles down on the couch beside Niall and Liam, and Zayn takes his usual spot in the overstuffed armchair that he claimed as his the first time he ever came to Louis and Niall’s apartment. 

_Two more days,_ Louis thinks to himself when he props his feet up on the coffee table. Two more days until he can find someone to help him forget the stress of this week. The weekend can’t come soon enough.

As Liam is flicking through the channels searching for a movie to watch, Louis interrupts the silence.

“So, say you had to choose between _Grease_ and _Footloose_. Which would you prefer?” 

Louis can’t say he’s surprised when Zayn throws a pillow at his face with enough force that Louis actually fears he’ll get a bloody nose. He also can’t say he’s surprised when nobody bothers to answer his question.

 

\--

 

When Friday night comes around, Zayn meets Louis and Niall outside of their favorite joint human and vampire bar in DC, aptly named _Bite Me_. Both vampires and humans are permitted in every bar and club as long as they’re old enough, of course, but designated joint human and vampire bars are where humans and vampires tend to go when they’re looking to hook up with one another.

Public feeding is also more socially acceptable here, so Louis isn’t surprised when they enter and encounter a dark-haired vampire woman drinking from a man directly in their path to the bar. Louis watches as Niall awkwardly tries to maneuver around them, cheeks rosy, and when the vampire realizes he’s trying to get by, she pulls her mouth off the man’s neck and raises a single eyebrow at Niall menacingly. 

“So sorry to interrupt,” Niall babbles, eyes wide. 

Zayn, who has been slinking behind them at a lazy pace since they entered, chuckles when he catches up and sees Niall’s terrified face.

“Out of the way, loser,” he says, and the vampire gives him a big grin before yanking the man she’s been drinking from to a corner of the room. 

“Do you know every vampire in this city?” Louis asks when they finally reach the bar. He leans against it, waving his hand in the bartender’s direction in the hopes of getting her attention. Truthfully, it’s always annoyed him that humans don’t get accelerated service at places like this. Vampires literally have forever to wait for a drink, but Louis certainly doesn’t. 

“I’ve been around a while,” Zayn replies, which is how he always answers question like that. Louis rolls his eyes. He doesn’t actually know how long Zayn has been around because Zayn refuses to tell anyone his age. He always says he prefers to be mysterious, but Louis figures he’s probably about 800 years old and embarrassed about it. 

Liam shows up by the time they all receive their drinks about ten minutes later, and once Louis has a beer in his hand, he leads his friends to an open space that seems like a good location for him to scope out the hot vampires in the bar.

“I thought you were bringing people?” Niall asks, frowning, and Zayn shrugs.

“My friend had to work a little later than planned, but he said he’ll be here with some others in like an hour or so. Why? Looking to score with one of them?” Zayn winks.

“I’m not the one desperate to get laid tonight,” Niall says, nodding in Louis’ direction. “He’s the one you should be looking out for when it comes to protecting the virtues of your vamp friends.” 

Louis snorts and downs a long sip of his beer. “As if I would ever sleep with some vampire friend of Zayn’s. And anyway, that would defeat the purpose of tonight. I’m looking to sleep with some arrogant jerk who’s good in bed, but who I’ll never have to see again. I don’t need that jerk hanging around in the future where I’ll be at risk of dating him, alright? I made that mistake once before and I have no desire to make it again.” 

Zayn sighs deeply. “Not that I’m saying you should sleep with one of my friends, but Lou, you do realize that not every vampire is like Luke, right? Give someone a chance to prove your assumptions wrong and you might—“

Liam cuts Zayn’s lecture short with a warning glance and Zayn sighs again, but stops speaking. It’s times like these when Louis is especially grateful for Liam’s friendship. He may be oblivious a lot of the time, but he never forces Louis to talk about things that Louis doesn’t want to talk about.

“Anyway, Niall, let’s go do a shot, shall we?” 

Louis holds out his arm and Niall catches on quickly, linking his arm with Louis’ like the good sport that he is. They march off in the direction of the bar, and when Louis glances back, he sees Liam whispering in Zayn’s ear. Zayn looks frustrated by whatever Liam’s saying, probably something about not pushing Louis to talk about Luke again, but it doesn’t matter. 

Louis just needs a fucking drink.

 

\--

 

An hour and a half later, Niall is well on his way to drunk and Louis is a pleasant level of tipsy. They’ve moved to the second floor of the bar by now, and while two vampires have approached Louis so far, one was a woman (no thank you) and the other had blood dripping down his chin from someone else (again, no thank you). Louis knows he just needs to go approach someone, but it’s been so long since he picked someone up from a bar that he’s actually quite intimidated by the prospect.

Louis is eye-fucking a vampire who’s standing at the bar when Zayn taps him on the shoulder, forcing him to break the eye contact. Louis looks back at the vampire immediately, but he’s already vanished. Louis sighs.

“What’s up?” He asks Zayn, eyes moving in the direction that Zayn is pointing in.

“My friend and his work buddies are here. Wanna go meet them?” 

Louis nods and follows Zayn over to where there are three additional people now added to the group. The first vampire, who is introduced to the group as Perrie Edwards, is a beautiful blonde woman with a nose ring and a kind smile. The second vampire, who is introduced the group as Nick Grimshaw, is a tall, gangly, and slightly awkward-looking man. The third vampire, who is introduced to the group as Zayn’s friend Harry Styles, well, he takes Louis’ breath away. 

He’s tall and lean with broad shoulders and brunette curly hair that’s going in all different directions, and he’s dressed in a black button-down shirt, a pink jacket embroidered with his own last name, black skinny jeans, and boots. He’s also wearing black nail polish and practically more rings than he has fingers. He’s smiling when Zayn introduces him to the group, and Louis can see an enormous dimple carved into his cheek. His entire face and body is obscene, honestly, and Louis hates Zayn for not warning him about this. 

Zayn makes quick work of the introductions before running off to grab Perrie, Nick, and Harry some drinks, and as soon as he’s gone, Harry sidles up next to Louis and takes his breath away for the second time in two minutes.

“I’m Harry,” he says, and when Louis looks at him, he has a slightly crooked smirk on his face. 

“Yeah, I was here three seconds ago when you were introduced,” Louis says sarcastically, and he immediately regrets his words. Louis loves to give people a hard time, but he knows that not everybody realizes he’s joking, so he usually waits until he gets to know somebody before hitting them the full brunt of his brattiness.

Harry seems unbothered, however, as his smile only widens at Louis’ words.

“You’re feisty for someone so small,” he says, and Louis can’t help the offended look that takes over his face. “Come sit with me over here,” Harry continues. Without waiting for a response, he walks over and sits down at an empty table a few yards away, clearly expecting Louis to follow him.

Louis does, of course, but only to defend his honor.

“I’m not small, you prick,” Louis says fiercely, sitting down in the chair Harry just pulled out for him. “I’m 5’9.”

“What, in your dreams? That’s cute,” Harry says, not taking his eyes off of Louis’ face. Zayn returns and hands him some fruity cocktail before rejoining the rest of their friends, but Harry maintains the eye contact with Louis, even while he’s thanking Zayn and taking the first sip of his drink.

Louis mentally prepares a comeback that would be enough to destroy Harry’s self-confidence forever, but Harry interrupts his thoughts. “So, where do you work, Louis?” 

Louis’ is startled slightly by the question, mouth snapping closed before he opens it again to speak. 

“I’m a drama teacher,” he says sullenly, trying very hard not to get distracted by the look of Harry’s pink lips wrapped around the straw of his drink.

Harry smiles, straw dropping out of his mouth, and leans forward. “At the same school where Zayn works?” 

“Uh huh,” Louis agrees. “Zayn teaches English, obviously. I teach drama, and then Liam is the vice-principal of the school, actually.” 

He glances behind him to where Liam is talking animatedly with Perrie. Louis can tell by the look on his face that he’s telling Perrie about his girlfriend, Cheryl, and while Perrie has an amused look on her face, it’s obvious that she’s listening politely to Liam’s rambling. 

When Louis looks back at Harry, Harry is watching him with a small smile. 

“What about the blonde guy?” Harry asks. “Niall, right? How’d you two meet?”

Harry is really very nosy, in Louis’ opinion, but he answers anyway. 

“Craigslist. No, really. My boyfriend and I broke up and I needed somewhere to stay on short notice, and Niall had an empty bedroom in his apartment and had put an ad up. The rest is history, I guess. But enough about me,” Louis says, sitting back in his chair and taking another sip of his beer. “So you’re..........a detective, or whatever.”

Harry grins and nods.

Louis has only ever really talked to police officers in the past when they pull him over speeding, which happens more frequently than Louis cares to admit. He’s never really had a conversation with one of the vampire officers though, and while he understands how important they are to the safety of the city considering human officers aren’t equipped to deal with vampire offenders, Louis has never really known much about them. 

The vampire division of the police force is split into two, with one half focusing on crimes that vampires commit against one another, and the other half focusing on crimes that vampires commit against humans. Harry explains that he, Nick, and Perrie are all detectives from the vampire-on-human crime unit.

“Wait, so are you guys working the case with the people going missing from bars?” Louis asks, suddenly curious.

Harry’s expression changes into something much more serious. He nods again.

“Yeah, Nick and I are the detectives on that case, actually. It’s a bit of a whopper since eight people have gone missing already, so Perrie and another detective, Jeff, help out when necessary. Our boss — James Corden, you’ve probably seen him give press conferences on the news sometimes — wants us to find who’s doing this before more people go missing, but it’s not exactly easy. They’re not leaving a trace, and it’s almost impossible to catch them in the act because we just don’t have the resources to station officers at every single exit of every single bar in DC. We’ve tried a few of the more popular ones, of course, but it’s made no difference so far.” 

Harry sighs heavily and chugs the last few sips of his cocktail.

“Are they being killed, do you think?” Louis asks, unsure of whether he wants to know the answer.

Harry shakes his head. “I assume they’re being drugged and then trafficked, sold to other vampires in the country who want their own human blood source to drink from whenever they want,” he says, looking like he feels slightly ill at the thought of it.

“That’s terrible,” Louis says, and Harry nods. “I’m sure you’ll catch them soon enough though.” 

Harry gives Louis a small smile to show he appreciates the sentiment, but he still looks lost in thought, and Louis’ fingers flex around his glass. He’s suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to reach out and touch Harry’s hand comfortingly, but they only just met and Louis thinks that oversteps the boundaries of introductory decorum.

“I got a ticket yesterday,” Louis says suddenly, the words rushing out of him before he can stop himself. All he knows is that for whatever reason, he wants to take Harry’s mind off the case that’s clearly bothering him, and this is how he can do that.

“Oh, yeah?” Harry asks, and there’s that smug look on his face again. Now that it’s back, Louis isn’t sure why he missed it in the first place. “For what?”

Louis waves his hand dismissively. “I was parked in a fire zone, apparently,” he says. “It was only for like two minutes though.” 

Harry raises his eyebrows. 

“Alright, fine, it may have been closer to fifteen minutes than two. But it was for good reason!” 

If Harry raises his eyebrows any higher, they’re going to disappear into his hairline. 

“The school completely ran out of ink for the photocopier and they told me that they weren’t going to get a new supply until Monday,” Louis explains. “I needed to scan 60 copies of a script for my students by this morning, so I had to run to Office Max, and then there were no available parking spots, so. Like I said, good reason.”

“But apparently one of my fellow officers disagreed,” Harry says. It’s obvious from his tone that he’s teasing.

Louis places his empty beer glass down on the table, grabs a napkin from the dispenser on the table, and dabs at his mouth delicately, enjoying the way Harry’s eyes follow his every movement. 

“Well, I wouldn’t expect an officer of the law to understand the importance of the arts.” Louis says finally, crumpling the napkin up and tossing it on the table. Harry snorts at that, but Louis presses on. “The ink I purchased ensured that the students in all three of my drama classes received a copy of the _Grease_ script with plenty of time to prepare for the auditions in two weeks, so it was definitely worth the $50 that I now owe to the District of Columbia.”

“Of course,” Harry says. He still sounds amused.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go step outside for a few minutes,” Louis says. Harry just smiles and waves him off, so Louis stalks toward the door to the balcony without another word. He’s pleasantly surprised to find the balcony free of people, though it’s likely due to the earlier rain shower and the threat of another approaching soon after midnight. Louis pulls a cigarette and his lighter out of his pocket and looks up at the cloudy sky as he lights up.

Harry is clearly an asshole. An extremely attractive asshole with a very noble profession, perhaps, but an asshole nonetheless. Thankfully, Louis already determined earlier that he definitely won’t be sleeping with any of Zayn’s friends, so there’s really no risk of them going home together. 

The night is still young, and Louis feels optimistic about his chances of finding someone else to fuck the stress of the week out of him. He ignores the small traitorous voice in his head telling him that he won’t find anyone at this bar (or any other in the city) that appeals to him as much as Harry does. He just needs to stop himself from being distracted by Harry again when he returns inside, and then everything will be fine.

Louis hears the door behind him open suddenly, and he spins around, ready to lecture Harry for following him out when he clearly wanted to be alone, but it’s not Harry. Instead, there’s some oaf of a vampire with a thick beard standing there, and the smirk on his face is significantly less attractive than the one that Harry wore earlier.

Louis sighs and sets his lighter down on the balcony railing. 

“What’s that saying?” The man asks, his voice gruff and somewhat slurred. He must have consumed a tank’s worth of alcohol to reach this level of drunkenness. “Hate to see them go, but love to watch them leave? I think that’s it.” 

Louis frowns and takes another puff from his cigarette, confused as to what the fuck this oaf is even talking about.

“What?” He asks.

“That was what I was thinking when I watched your ass bounce while you walked out of that door a few minutes ago,” the vampire says, and Louis’ face twists in revulsion. What a pig.

The man takes several steps forward, and Louis wants very badly to step back, but he won’t be intimidated by some disgusting vampire with a penchant for sexual harassment. He holds his ground, standing up straight and puffing out his chest somewhat. The vampire stops a couple of feet in front of him and leers.

There’s a smudge of blood on his collar, likely from his earlier snack of the night, and for a moment, Louis allows himself to entertain a lovely fantasy in which he punches this vampire’s stupid looking face and doesn’t break his hand. 

“You’re so beautiful that it hurts to look at you, honestly,” the vampire says, smirking. 

“Then close your eyes,” Louis replies, voice sugary sweet. 

The vampire chuckles darkly, clearly undeterred by Louis’ rudeness.

“Kitten has claws, I see,” he says, stepping further into Louis’ personal space. Louis rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, kitten does,” he says, choosing that moment to blow smoke into the guy’s face. “And kitten is going to claw your eyes out if you don’t step the fuck back right this second.” 

The vampire’s eyes flash red with anger and he opens his mouth to respond, but before he gets the chance, Louis hears the sound of the door opening. Both he and the prick standing in front of him refocus their attention on whoever has stepped out onto the balcony, and Louis can’t help but roll his eyes again when he sees who’s joined them.

“Hi, gentlemen,” Harry says, voice slow and deep. He has a small smile on his face and he looks perfectly serene, but Louis has the feeling he knows exactly what he was interrupting.

Louis takes the momentary distraction as an opportunity to shove the vampire away from him, and though he glares at Louis when he stumbles back slightly, caught off guard, he doesn’t bother trying to get back into Louis’ personal space. Instead, the vampire turns and walks toward the door, roughly shouldering past Harry despite there being plenty of room to avoid him. Louis knows that if the vampire had chosen to sideswipe him on his way past, he’d probably have been knocked off balance enough that he would fall to the ground. Harry doesn’t move a muscle, however, and he even keeps the calm smile on his face as though he felt nothing more than the fluttering of the breeze. 

When the door closes, Harry and Louis are alone. Louis shivers slightly and tells himself it’s only because of the air temperature.

Harry takes a few cautious steps forward. 

“Are you gonna claw me if I try to give you my jacket, wildcat?” Harry asks, smile in his voice. Without waiting for an answer, he shrugs out of the pink jacket and holds it out to Louis as an offering. 

Louis sighs and takes it, grumbling out a “thank you” under his breath. The jacket is warm and it smells like Harry’s cologne, and Louis would like to be able to say that he’s disgusted by the scent, but he’s really, really not. 

He sighs and turns back to the balcony railing, taking the last couple of puffs from his cigarette. Harry approaches slowly, eventually moving to lean against the balcony beside Louis, leaving just a couple of inches between the sides of their bodies. 

“Seems like you have a knack for attracting trouble,” Harry says, tone light as he gazes out over the city. 

Louis flicks his cigarette and watches the ash fall until it’s no longer visible in the darkness of the alley below. 

“More accurately, I’d say that I have a knack for attracting assholes,” Louis says, even as he shivers and burrows himself deeper into Harry’s jacket. 

“Oh yeah?” Harry asks. He sounds amused, but he doesn’t bother looking at Louis, instead keeping his gaze on the view.

Louis feels like he’s being baited. He doesn’t like it one bit.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Louis mocks, dropping the butt of his cigarette into an ashtray and taking a step back from the balcony railing. It’s time to put as much distance between himself and Harry as possible, and more importantly, it’s time to get another three shots of tequila into his system. 

Louis is about halfway to the door when Harry’s hand catches on his elbow, spinning him around so quickly that he doesn’t even realize what’s happening until he’s face to face with the vampire. They’re much closer together than Louis anticipated, and Louis can see every speck of green and gold in Harry’s eyes.

He can also see that Harry’s gaze is on his mouth.

“You almost forgot your lighter,” Harry says quietly, holding the lighter out from where he must have picked it up off the balcony railing. His other hand moves from Louis’ elbow to his hip, and though his grip isn’t tight, Louis is startled by how possessive the gesture feels.

“Thanks,” Louis says quietly, little more than an exhale of breath. For some reason, he can’t bring himself to make the word sound sarcastic or mocking. Louis doesn’t reach out to take the lighter.

They just stand there for a moment, gazing at each other without speaking. Finally, Harry puts the lighter in the pocket of his jeans without bothering to look away from Louis’ face. When Louis licks his lips, Harry’s eyes track the movement.

Louis’ body is vibrating with anticipation. He knows he should move out of Harry’s grip, spin on his heels, and retreat back inside, forget this entire interaction even happened. Harry would let him, Louis thinks. He’s the cockiest bastard Louis has met in a while, but somewhere deep in his bones, some instinctual understanding of Harry tells him that he would let Louis walk away and never speak about this moment again. If that was what he wanted. 

Harry tightens his grip on Louis’ hips slightly and brings his other hand up to cup Louis’ chin. He thumbs over Louis’ cheek gently, and Louis closes his eyes at the touch. Harry’s hands are cool and soft, and if Louis hadn’t been staring him in the face a few seconds earlier, he would never be able to guess that it’s a vampire touching him this way — touching him as though he’s made of the most fragile glass. 

“Did I mention that you have the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen?” Harry asks, and Louis’ eyes fly open, brows furrowing into a glare. Harry has a huge smile on his face, dimple prominent as can be, and Louis wants to knee him in the balls.

Instead, he surges up onto his toes and kisses Harry on the mouth. Their teeth clink together at the force of it, but Harry’s hand on Louis’ jaw guides their lips together properly, slowing Louis down and turning the kiss into something different than he intended — something less aggressive and urgent, more sensual and overwhelming. 

“Shut up,” Louis gasps out, pulling back just enough to say the words against Harry’s lips before moving into the kiss again, and he feels the press of Harry’s answering grin against his mouth. Louis moves one of his hands to Harry’s hair, threading his fingers through the wild curls there, tugging slightly, and it has the effect he intended. Harry groans against Louis’ mouth, and before Louis even has the chance to take another half a breath, Harry’s closed the ten feet of distance between them and the building. Louis feels his back slam against the brick wall. 

“Fuck,” he says, and when Harry makes a considering sound at the word, Louis doesn’t even bother pretending that he’s annoyed. There’s also a complaint on the tip of Louis’ tongue about being manhandled against the wall using vampire speed and strength, but he swallows it. Harry would know he was lying about hating it anyway.

Harry moves his hands all over Louis’ body while they kiss, and if Louis weren’t half out of his mind with desire already, he’d probably be embarrassed by the fact that Harry’s touch is raising a trail of goosebumps across his skin.

When Harry moves his lips down to kiss along Louis’ jaw, Louis takes the opportunity to catch his breath. Embarrassingly enough, Louis’ chest is heaving, and his heartbeat is moving at what seems like triple its regular speed. He doesn’t understand why kissing is affecting him like this, but he dismisses it as the consequence of not having gotten laid in a while. 

Harry mouths his way down Louis’ neck, breathing hotly and sucking intermittently, probably leaving a smattering of red marks in his wake. His fangs still aren’t out though, and Louis can’t help the feeling of frustration that’s beginning to bubble in his chest. 

“Can you, uh, fuck,” Louis says, cutting himself off as Harry sucks a bruise at his pulse point. 

“Can I what?” Harry asks, standing up straight again so he can look Louis in the eyes. His cocky tone is back, and Louis tells himself that he didn’t miss it one bit. He tries to ignore the throbbing feeling in his groin.

“What do you want me to do?” Harry asks again, eyes dark. Louis breathes heavily, the only audible sound aside from the soft thumping of the bass inside and the distance sound of traffic, but doesn’t say anything. 

“This?” Harry asks, pushing his leg between Louis’ and pressing against his erection. Louis gasps slightly at finally being touched there, even if it’s not in the way he really wants. They’ve only been making out for a few minutes, probably, but Louis feels like he’s been hard for ages. 

He bites his lip and still doesn’t answer, which only makes the vampire’s smile grow. 

“Or...this?” Harry touches his cool fingertips to the side of Louis’ neck, pressing hard at the bruise already there. 

Louis moves one of his hands to the front of Harry’s pants, cupping his erection firmly, hoping to distract Harry enough that he’ll give Louis what he wants. Harry’s eyes fall closed briefly with pleasure at the feeling, but he gains control of himself quickly, taking Louis’ hand and moving it to his hip, a safe enough distance away from his cock.

“I’m not going to do anything until you tell me what you want,” Harry says, and he still sounds arrogant as hell, but there’s a seriousness underlying his tone that makes Louis’ stomach muscles clench. 

Louis pushes forward to kiss Harry again, their tongues meeting briefly before Louis retreats enough to run his along Harry’s bottom lip. “Bite me,” Louis says finally, focusing his eyes on Harry’s even though there’s only about an inch between their faces, making the gaze intense. He speaks quietly enough that his words are barely audible to his own ears, but Harry can hear him perfectly. 

Louis is still being pressed into the wall, so he lets his head fall backwards. There’s a slight jolt of pain when the back of his skull makes contact with the brick, but the pain of it is a welcome distraction. It gives him something to focus on — something besides the desire overwhelming his senses when Harry finally, finally, _finally_ allows his fangs to descend. 

It hurts at first. It always does, the feeling of two sharp teeth piercing your skin deep enough to puncture a vein and draw enough blood to sustain a vampire. The first time Louis hooked up with a vampire, years ago when he was just 19 years old and had somehow managed to get into a bar with his completely unrealistic fake I.D., just before the vampire had dug in, he’d told himself that he needed to grit his teeth through the pain and act like a natural. 

He never could have expected his actual reaction though. He _loved_ it. The pain of the bite was nothing in comparison with the feeling of complete euphoria and lust that overwhelmed Louis’ senses when that first vampire drank from him, and now, years later, Louis has found that the feeling never goes away.

There’s something about a vampire drinking from Louis that makes him feel heady with power, even as they quite literally hold his life in their hands, and Louis thrives off of it. And the fact that amazing sex often follows the bite, or is happening during it, well, that’s just a lovely added bonus. 

And of course, it’s no different this time. 

Harry bites the way he talks, and walks, and kisses, with an intensity that’s somehow on the right side of too much, overwhelming without being overbearing, and executed in a way that shows how incredibly aware Harry is of everything happening in that moment. Nearly every vampire Louis has ever been with stopped caring about his pleasure the second the first droplet of blood hit their tongue, and if Louis weren’t always so into the sensation, he would have stopped hooking up with vampires because of their selfishness in bed a long time ago. 

Harry, though. He drinks as slowly as any vampire Louis has ever seen, making it clear that he’s in no rush to the finish line. Louis moans low in his throat when Harry flicks his tongue out around the indentations from his teeth, soothing the sting and sending goosebumps dancing across Louis’ skin yet again. He only drinks for a brief moment before moving his mouth over slightly, sucking a red mark into the skin there, making Louis gasp and arch his back, and Harry just chuckles in response before returning to drinking. 

It’s a slow, special kind of torture, as Harry moves between drinking and sucking marks into his neck, and all the while, Louis can feel Harry’s fingers dancing along his hips, moving back to his ass and squeezing before returning to his hips as quickly as they left. 

Louis can’t keep his eyes open, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as the endorphins race through his body, and he wants so badly for Harry to touch him for real. When Harry moves in to drink again, Louis removes his hands from where they’re clutching at Harry’s shoulders and slides them down his arms, trying to redirect his hands to where Louis really wants them.

“Hmmm,” Harry hums, pulling back so he can look at Louis’ face again. Louis’ attempt to move his hands to the more needy part of his body has failed, of course, with Harry acting as though there’s no force at all trying to tug them lower. 

“You’re torturing me,” Louis accuses, voice more petulant than he’d like to admit. 

Harry chuckles again, and the next time he does that, Louis is going to throw him off the balcony.

“God, you look gorgeous like this,” Harry murmurs. His eyes are burning into Louis’, and Louis doesn’t need a mirror to know what Harry sees when he looks at his face. Louis knows what he looks like when he’s this desperate for it — the glassy eyes, the blown pupils, the sweat-mussed hair, the teeth marks and reddened bruises littering the sides of his neck.

In contrast, the only visible evidence of what they’ve been doing on Harry is the drop of blood on his lip and the tent in his pants. If he adjusted himself and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, he could walk away like nothing had even happened. Louis doesn’t want him to though. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this, but...

“Come home with me,” Louis says, enjoying the way Harry’s hands tighten around his hips in response.

Harry is about to take a step back so Louis can step away from the wall, but Louis grabs his arm. 

“Wait, let me,” he says, reaching his sleeve up to wipe the blood off Harry’s mouth instead of completing his sentence.

Harry’s face when Louis pulls his sleeve back is something that Louis might refer to as fond if this were anything more than a casual hookup. This isn’t anything more than that though, so Louis doesn’t want to think about it. 

Instead, he grabs Harry’s hand and pulls the vampire back through the door and back into the bar, weaving his way through the drunken crowd. Harry follows him willingly.

It doesn’t take him long to spot their friends, mainly because Niall’s laugh is loud and distinct enough that Harry, even having only met Niall an hour earlier, can identify it through all the other noise and is therefore able to point Louis in their direction. 

Niall, Zayn, Liam, and Perrie are all still standing together, and as soon as they spot Louis and Harry approaching, Zayn’s bored facial expression shifts into something self-satisfied and knowing.

“Well, well, well,” Zayn says when they’re close enough that Louis’ human ears can hear. “What do we have here?”

His eyes move down Harry and Louis’ bodies and his smirk only widens. Louis probably should have waited for them both to adjust themselves before leaving the balcony, but it’s a little too late now.

“We’ve got somewhere to be,” Louis says. Harry’s hand finds the small of his back and rests there. 

Perrie laughs. “And another two bite the dust,” she says, giving Harry a wink.

“Nick?” Harry asks. Perrie snorts and nods. 

“He spotted someone a few minutes ago and went after them. Doubt we’ll be seeing more of him tonight, if you catch my drift. And now it seems like you two have the same idea he had.” 

Harry shakes his head in fond exasperation, and Louis feels the vampire’s hand slip dangerously low on his back.

“That’s typical Nick,” Harry explains, head turned toward Louis as though he’s only talking to him. Louis shifts his weight from one foot to the other and nods impatiently. He’d like Harry’s dick inside him within the next hour, and this conversation really isn’t helping to make that happen, so it’s time for them to leave.

“Cool, well, Niall, I’d recommend not coming home for a few hours, alright?” Louis says. “Actually, maybe you should just crash on Zayn’s couch. That’d be ideal. Thanks, love you!” 

Niall looks like he’s about to grumble at that, but Harry is already saying his goodbyes and leading Louis away from their friends with a hand dangerously close to Louis’ ass and a look of fierce determination in his eyes. The last thing Louis hears before they’re out of human hearing distance is a “nice jacket, Lou!” from Zayn, and when Louis glances down, he sees that he is indeed still wearing Harry’s pink jacket. The same jacket that has Harry’s last name embroidered on it. 

“Did you seriously give me a jacket with your name on it to wear?” Louis asks, fully realizing that he should have remembered that Harry’s last name was on the front before he accepted it and shrugged it on.

Harry gives him a sly smile. “Yup,” he says, looking far too proud of himself. 

They don’t speak more in the taxi on the short ride to Louis’ apartment, but Harry keeps a possessive hand on Louis’ knee. His fingers keep finding their way onto Louis’ inner thigh to casually rub at the inseam of his jeans in a way that isn’t actually casual at all, but when Louis shoots him a look, Harry is gazing out the car window with the same serene smile on his face that he had when they were on the balcony. If it weren’t for the prominent bulge still evident in his jeans, Louis would think he was totally unaffected. 

When the car stops outside Louis and Niall’s building, Louis tosses a $20 bill at the driver before Harry has the chance and pulls Harry out the door behind him, not allowing them separate for even the amount of time it would take for Harry to get out his own car door. 

“You seem eager,” Harry observes as Louis swipes them into the building and walks straight through the lobby to the elevator. 

“Says the vampire whose hand is groping my ass as we speak,” Louis says with roll of his eyes. Harry just shrugs without shame and uses said hand to give Louis a little push into the elevator when the doors open. 

They reach the fifth floor in no time at all and Louis leads the way to his and Niall’s apartment, the last one on the right down the hallway. His hands are shaking when he fishes his key out of his pocket and tries to fit it into the lock, and Louis feels his face burn with embarrassment at how ridiculous he’s being.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Harry says, lips just touching the shell of Louis’ ear. Louis shivers, but he finally fits the key into the lock and turns it, pushing the door open. 

“God, just shut the fuck up,” Louis orders when he takes the first step into his apartment, but he doesn’t have time to say anything else before Harry’s lips are on his again, tongue entering his mouth without preamble. Louis groans at the feeling and lets himself be pushed against the wall of the living room, suddenly grateful that they decided against putting an entry way table next to the door so they would have somewhere to drop their keys. 

“I really don’t like you at all,” Louis says when he pulls back, giving them both the chance to kick off their shoes and socks. When those are off, Louis’ fingers begin scrambling desperately to undo the buttons of Harry’s shirt. 

“Then why am I here?” Harry asks, that same cocky tone to his voice. As he speaks, he pushes his own jacket off of Louis’ shoulders and yanks Louis’ t-shirt up and over his head, messing up his perfectly crafted fringe.

Louis moves in for another kiss and shoves Harry’s unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders with zero concern for the fact that it probably cost about as much money as Louis earns in a month. Harry kisses back with just as much fervor, but Louis only gives him the chance for another few seconds before he pulls back to answer Harry’s question.

“I’m drunk,” he says by way of explanation before pulling his jeans and boxers down his hips. He’s completely naked now, and Harry stops fumbling with his belt for a minute so he can give Louis’ body his undivided attention. He licks his lips when he gazes at Louis, eyes moving up and down, taking extra time to focus on Louis’ peaked nipples, his soft belly, his hard cock. 

“I drank your blood, you realize,” Harry says finally, eyes still glued to Louis’ body, and vampires don’t have to breathe if they don’t want to, but it sounds like the wind has been knocked out of him anyway. “I could probably give you a more accurate reading of your blood alcohol level than a breathalyzer test. You didn’t drink that much, sweetheart, and if you had, I wouldn’t have come here.” 

Louis’ chest heaves as he watches Harry pull his jeans down and realizes that Harry went commando tonight. He takes a minute to look at what he’s about to take and swallows hard. Fuck. 

Finally, he lets his eyes move back up to meet Harry’s. 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” Louis says, and his voice sounds weak even to his own ears. 

Harry smirks. “Which bedroom is yours?” He asks, and Louis frowns, unsure of why Harry is bothering to ask when Louis will lead the way in a minute. 

He answers anyway. “It’s the second door on the left.” 

All Louis sees is a blur of movement as Harry disappears, and two seconds later, Louis hears the vampire rummaging through the top drawer of his nightstand. Only another second passes before Louis sees the Harry-sized blur that signals his return to the living room where Louis is still standing naked, clothes abandoned on the floor around him. 

“Turn around,” Harry demands, and Louis does without second thought. He leans his forehead against the wall next to the front door and tries to catch his breath. He knows it’s been a while since he had sex, but Jesus Christ, this is beyond embarrassing. He needs to pull it together or he’s going to come before Harry even gets a finger inside him. 

The vampire molds himself against Louis’ back, and Louis groans when he feels Harry’s cock pressed up against him so close to where he really wants it. Louis moves his hands down his body to tug at his own dick, but Harry reaches around to halt the movement.

“Put your hands against the wall,” Harry says, lips brushing against Louis’s shoulder lightly. Louis shudders and complies, pressing his sweaty palms to the wall on either side of his body. 

“You ready?” Harry asks, voice deep but gentle, a sharp contrast from the tone it had before. Louis nods and rests his forehead against the wall again, body tensing slightly in anticipation, hands sliding slightly from where they’re positioned, eyes squeezed closed.

When Louis feels two cool hands pull his cheeks apart instead of a lube wet finger circling his rim, he jerks in surprise. Harry’s kneeling behind him, he realizes, but his hands are on Louis’ body keeping him steady, not allowing Louis to move out of his grasp.

“Alright?” Harry checks again, and Louis makes an affirmative noise that quickly turns to a gasp when he feels Harry’s tongue lap over his hole once, twice, three times. Louis can’t help the moan that escapes his mouth at the feeling. “Hold yourself apart for me, okay, baby?” Harry asks, and Louis moves his hands down to keep his cheeks spread, barely even registering what Harry just called him.

Harry really digs in then, lapping at his hole with a level of eagerness that most vampires reserve for blood drinking, and Louis can hear himself making embarrassing noises, but he can’t stop. When Harry slides a finger in beside his tongue, Louis’ knees start shaking, and Harry uses his free hand to steady him without halting his movements. 

“If you use your fangs right now, I swear to god,” Louis says, voice too shaky to sound even the least bit intimidating. Harry doesn’t say anything to that, but he does laugh deep in his throat. He also chooses that moment to slide a second finger in, circling his tongue around the digits and earning another choked moan from Louis. 

Harry pulls his mouth back after a moment, and when Louis turns his head and glances down, he sees Harry admiring his own handiwork. He has two fingers still working through the wetness left behind by his mouth, moving in and out, occasionally brushing against the spot that makes Louis moan and bang his forehead against the wall in front of him.

“Careful,” Harry says the second time Louis does it, and Louis would turn around and smack the smug look he knows is on the vampire’s face, but Harry pulls his fingers out, and that makes Louis want to smack him for a different reason. 

Louis is about to complain out loud when he hears the click of the bottle of lube Harry retrieved from his bedroom, and sure enough, when Harry puts his fingers back inside Louis, they’re lube-wet and the slide is much easier than before. Harry only waits a couple of seconds before pushing a third finger in and aiming right for Louis’ prostate. 

Harry works his fingers for several minutes, occasionally pulling them out and circling around Louis’ rim teasingly, all while pressing kisses and sucking marks into Louis’ ass cheeks, and Louis is going out of his mind.

“Okay, fuck, enough, you’ve done enough, Harry,” Louis grits out. “Please.” 

Those are apparently the magic words that Harry was waiting for because as soon as Louis begins pleading, Harry gets to his feet and spins Louis around. 

“Want me to use a condom?” Harry asks, eyes dark with desire, and Louis nods. Disease isn’t a concern when it comes to sex with vampires, but some sappy part of Louis still thinks bareback sex is meant to be meaningful, not something that happens during a quick fuck with an arrogant vampire that you’re never going to see again. 

Louis nods, and when he looks down, he’s surprised to see that Harry had apparently anticipated his answer and was pulling the condom down over his cock before Louis even moved his head. Louis watches with fascination as Harry rubs the leftover lube from his fingers all over his dick without taking the time to make even a single protest about the fact that Louis wants him to use a condom. Louis’ vampire ex-boyfriend used to bitch every single time. 

Louis can’t help himself when he closes the distance between them and kisses Harry again, open-mouthed and wet, and Harry kisses him back like there’s nothing else he would rather be doing. They’re still caught on each others’ mouths when Harry puts his hands under Louis’ thighs and lifts him up, pressing him up against the wall and forcing Louis to wrap his arm around Harry’s neck and hold on.

Louis pulls back and lets his head fall back against the wall, already regretting the headache he’s probably going to have when he wakes up from how much of a beating he gave himself tonight. Louis hands clutch Harry’s shoulders firmly when he lines himself up, one hand weaving its way into the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck, and when Harry pushes in, slow and steady and so fucking overwhelming, Louis bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“Look at me,” Harry says, and Louis does, holding Harry’s gaze as he pushes inch after inch of his cock into Louis’ body. When he’s finally balls deep, Louis lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

Harry seems to be waiting for something, not moving despite the fact that most other vampires would be mindlessly working toward their own climax by now, and Louis can’t stop himself from leaning in for another kiss. Harry laps at the blood leaking from the cut on Louis’ lip and groans before he gets to work kissing Louis back. 

When Harry lifts Louis off his cock and then immediately pulls him back down onto it, forcing Louis to just take it, back braced against the wall, sweat dripping down his chest, arms shaking where they’re wrapped around Harry’s body, Louis has to break the kiss again. For those first few minutes, Louis can’t concentrate on anything other than the feeling of Harry inside him.

Harry fucks him more intensely than he’s ever been fucked in his life. His thrusts are deep and consistent, rarely missing Louis’ prostate, his kisses are wet and thorough, ensuring that Louis has to pull back every minute or so just to get some oxygen into his lungs, and Louis feels so full and overwhelmed that there are tears gathering at the corner of his eyes in what feels like no time at all. 

Harry eventually moves one hand away from where it’s helping to impale Louis on his dick, and Louis sobs out a moan when he realizes that Harry is holding him up and fucking him against the wall one-handed, arms not straining in the slightest. Harry’s other hand finds its way to one of Louis’ nipples, caressing it to make Louis shudder.

“What if your roommate came home right now?” Harry asks suddenly, and he sounds smug, as always, but underneath, there’s something awed and overwhelmed in his tone. “What if he saw you up against the wall and taking my cock like this, this desperate for it after you tried so hard to pretend you weren’t interested? What do you think he’d say?”

“God, shut up,” Louis whines, and he just can’t anymore. He finally moves one hand down to his cock, which has been neglected for far too long, and starts jerking himself off quickly.

“Harry, please,” he says, voice breaking on the word when Harry offers a particularly well-aimed thrust. 

Harry kisses Louis so deeply that Louis’ toes curl involuntarily, and it feels like his entire body is on the brink, but he needs something else to get him there. Louis uses the hand he still has intertwined in Harry’s curls to yank his head back slightly, and Harry groans with pleasure at the feeling. 

“Please, c’mon, bite me again,” Louis begs. He doesn’t care anymore. His dignity was lost somewhere between Harry burying his face between Louis’ ass cheeks and moving Louis on his cock like he weighs nothing at all, so Louis will get down on his hands and knees to beg for what he wants if that’s what it’ll take for Harry to give it to him.

Harry’s rhythm breaks for the first time since they started fucking, and when Louis looks at his face, his eyes are wide with surprise. “Baby, I don’t need more—” Harry begins, but Louis shakes his head quickly.

“No, _I_ need it, please, Harry, just—” Louis says, and when he sees Harry’s fangs descend, he feels like he could cry with relief. 

Louis continues jerking himself off with one hand and digs the nails of the other into Harry’s shoulder when Harry lowers his face to Louis’ neck. His breath is as warm as a vampire’s ever gets, and Louis feels him return to the same spot that he bit earlier in the night, careful to make sure that Louis will only have one set of bite marks.

When Harry finally sinks his teeth into that spot again, Louis twists his hand on the upstroke and comes. Just like that.

“Fuck, baby,” Harry groans against Louis’ neck, and he sounds surprised. After that, Harry pushes in one more time and follows Louis right over the edge, unable to resist the feeling of Louis clenching around him.

For a minute, they don’t move, Harry standing in place, Louis still held up against the wall, just breathing together. Louis is so out of it that when Harry finally pulls out a few minutes later, he barely notices Harry holding him up with one arm so he can pull the condom off with his free hand. Louis just wraps his legs around Harry’s waist, holds onto his shoulders with a weak grip, and lets himself be carried into his bedroom. 

Harry lays him down on his bed gently and Louis finds his eyes slipping closed.

“Seems like you enjoyed that,” Harry says smugly, and Louis groans.

“God, you’re such an asshole.” Louis opens one eye to glare at Harry and rolls over onto his side.

As Louis drifts off, the last thing he remembers is the sound of Harry’s annoying laugh, the dampness of a cloth wiping dried come off his stomach, and the comforting feeling of warmth, safety, and something like happiness.


	2. Chapter Two

At around 9AM, Louis decides he’s never moving again. At around 5PM, he decides that he’ll move again, but only for the purpose of going to the kitchen and getting something to eat before he literally wastes away in his bed. 

When he finally wrestles his way out of the tangled sheets and gets to his feet, it takes him half a minute to shake the soreness out of limbs enough that the prospect of stepping forward is a little more bearable. 

Louis picks a pair of sweatpants off his floor and pulls them on, not bothering with underwear, and makes his way down the hallway to the living room. While Louis’ bedroom was dark, the living room curtains are open and the light is streaming in, so his eyes take a while to adjust before he even spots Niall on the couch. 

He’s made a burrito of himself with one of the throw blankets usually draped over the back cushions and he’s watching the local news, probably just so he can one up Louis the next time they see Liam. 

“Good evening, sunshine,” Niall greets. “Had a good night last night?”

Louis ignores him in favor of yawning and stretching before going to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of cereal, unbothered by the fact that he’s about eight hours late for breakfast. He gives himself a mental prep talk while he pours the milk into the bowl, already certain of what’s about to come for him when he goes back in there. 

Sure enough, the moment that Louis reenters the living room, Niall begins the third degree.

“So,” Niall says. “You two didn’t even make it to your bedroom.” 

Louis sighs and walks over to the couch. 

“You couldn’t possibly know that,” Louis says, but his eyes scan the room suspiciously. These days, you never know if there are security cameras secretly recording your every move. Louis wouldn’t put it past Niall to put some up so he could catch Louis when he skips vacuuming under the coffee table.

Niall gives a pointed look over his shoulder in the direction of the door, and when Louis turns around, he sees his clothing from the club last night in a neatly folded pile on the floor right where he and Harry fucked against the wall. 

Well, that’s a bit of a dead giveaway. 

Louis smiles slightly at the idea of the vampire carefully folding his clothes and placing them in a pile before exiting his apartment this morning, but he snaps out of it quickly.

“Sorry,” Louis says sheepishly. 

Niall shrugs, clearly unbothered.

“I’ve had sex on this couch like five times since you moved in, dude. I couldn’t care less,” Niall says, and Louis wrinkles his nose, giving the couch a disgusted look. He’s about to tell Niall that they fucked against the wall, not on the couch, but he figures the teasing will only be more relentless if he reveals that particular detail. Louis’ friends always make fun of him because he enjoys being manhandled, so the last thing Louis needs to do is open himself up to more jokes.

“So was it everything you wanted and more?” Niall asks, pulling Louis out of his thoughts.

Louis shrugs, hoping he seems indifferent about the whole thing, but that act is ruined when he sits his ass down on the couch next to Niall and winces. Niall cackles louder.

When he finally stops laughing, he demands that Louis tell him everything. Louis finishes chewing the cereal in his mouth and sets his spoon and bowl down on the coffee table for a moment so he can explain. 

“He came over and we had sex. It was passable,” Louis says, glaring at Niall when he snorts disbelievingly. “Got the job done, anyway. I fell asleep and I assume he did as well, unless he decided to watch me all night like a creep, and then this morning, he woke me up to say that he had to get to work. That was pretty much it, really.” 

Louis picks his bowl back up and takes another bite.

“Did he kiss you goodbye? Did he give you his number? Did he profess his eternal love? Jesus, Louis. I was far too drunk to even think about getting it up last night, so the least you could do is give me some details so I can live vicariously though you,” Niall says. Louis is usually known as the most dramatic person in his friend group, but every once in a while, Niall gives him a run for his money.

“Yes, he kissed me goodbye, but I was half asleep. No, he didn’t give me his number. And no, he didn’t profess his eternal love. It was a one-time fuck and I look forward to never having to see him again,” Louis says. There’s an uncomfortable feeling in his gut that tells him he might not mean that last part, but he dismisses it. 

Niall is giving him a look like he doesn’t quite believe Louis’ assurances, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he pokes his finger against one of the bruises on Louis’ neck. Hard.

Louis cries out slightly, surprised at how tender the spot is. He’s grateful Niall didn’t decide to poke the actual bite marks because that would hurt even worse. Louis is really not looking forward to looking into the mirror later. He has a strong inkling that he’ll need to pick up some foundation from the drug store before work on Monday. It won’t do anything to hide the bite, of course, but at least it will hide the bruises somewhat.

“Your neck makes it look like you were mauled by a bear, not a vampire,” Niall says, and Louis is about to protest that assessment when the end of the commercial break on TV interrupts his thought process. 

“A 31-year-old man named Greg James and a 25-year-old woman named Jesy Nelson both went missing from bars in the district last night,” the blonde news anchor says in a serious voice. "Chief James Corden of the DC Metropolitan Police Department’s vampire-on-human crime unit said in a statement this morning that the disappearances seem to be connected to the disappearance of eight other individuals in the DC area within the last month. He also said that it’s important for everyone in the city to remain vigilant, particularly if—“

Niall chooses that moment to turn the TV off. When Louis looks at him, Niall’s face looks paler than usual.

“Kinda scary, isn’t it?” He asks Louis. “That could’ve been us, y’know? If it weren’t for Zayn and his vampire friends looking out for us. We’re really lucky.” 

Louis thinks about the timing of when Harry came out onto the balcony the night before, right after another vampire had followed Louis out and started harassing him. Louis swallows hard and puts his bowl of cereal back down on the coffee table. His appetite is gone all of a sudden, and besides, the cereal is soggy now anyway.

“Yeah,” Louis agrees. “We’re lucky.”

 

\--

 

On Tuesday afternoon, the students have an assembly, and both Louis and Zayn somehow luck out and manage to avoid supervising duty. Louis should probably take the extra time to enter his students’ participation grades from last week into the online gradebook, but instead, he and Zayn leave early and walk to a milkshake place nearby.

There’s a rooftop terrace with tables set up, so Louis and Zayn take their milkshakes out there to sit down and enjoy the sunshine. It’s beautiful and warm outside as long as you aren’t in the shade, still too early in the fall for it to cool down much or for the leaves to have started changing. Louis has a chocolate milkshake and Zayn has cookies and cream, but they keep switching every few minutes to share.

There aren’t many humans or vampires out on the terrace — just three college girls who are gossiping about a party the previous weekend and look about ready to leave, and a vampire man and human woman whose heads seem to be getting closer and closer with every passing second. 

The looks they’re exchanging make Louis think they may start humping each other with the next few minutes, and Louis wants to tell them to leave room for Jesus, but he resists the urge when Zayn gives him a look. For some reason, Zayn always seems to know what Louis is scheming without Louis having to tell him, and it causes problems when Zayn decides to be a reasonable vampire rather than actively participating in those schemes.

Zayn is about halfway through a complaint about how many papers he has to grade and Louis is about three quarters of the way through his milkshake when he sees the vampire start feeding from the woman at the next table over. Louis grits his teeth and tries to ignore it.

When Zayn finally takes a breath after the longest string of words he’s probably ever said at one time in his life, Louis speaks. “If it makes you feel any better,” Louis says. “Auditions start next week and the kids have already started fighting about who’s going to get the parts of Sandy and Danny.”

Zayn chuckles to himself at that. He’s watched Louis deal with this for the past two years, and since he’s a terrible friend, he always seems to be more amused than sympathetic.

“I just wish my students would understand that while they’re all immensely talented and perfect in every way,” Louis says, ignoring Zayn’s snort. “Only two people can play the lead roles. And every other role is important too! I want them to realize that because I hate when they fight over this stuff and get so upset if they don’t get the lead. Last year, three of the students even cried. It broke my heart.” 

Louis is getting sad just thinking about, but Zayn only shrugs.

“You make them all feel important by getting them involved in building the set and designing the costumes and all that jazz, so don’t even worry about it. They’ll get over it soon enough,” Zayn assures him. 

Louis knows what he’s saying is true, but he hates seeing his students upset and he knows the next week or so is going to be rough. He’s just about to change the subject by asking Zayn what book his students are reading currently when he’s rudely interrupted by the noises coming from the other table.

Louis turns to look at them, and Zayn sighs dramatically as though he knows exactly where this is going.

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby. 

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look. 

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there. 

 

\--

 

Louis can feel the exhaustion and annoyance deep in his bones before he and Niall even make it into _Bite Me_. He was snappy with the kids in his classes all day, and Louis isn’t sure if there’s something in the water that’s putting everyone in a bad mood, or if it’s just him and he’s projecting. As Louis considers throttling someone who accidentally steps on the heel of his shoe while they wait in the line to enter, he thinks it might be the latter.

Niall is waxing poetic about what he ate for dinner tonight when they finally reach the bouncer, and Louis can’t help but sigh in relief when their IDs are checked and they can finally step inside.

The club smells the same way that it did last week, a mixture of alcohol, sweat, and the lingering metallic scent of blood, and it takes Louis a few breaths to adjust to it. It’s not a combination that he would normally enjoy, but he can’t bring himself to mind. There’s something about joint vampire and human clubs that makes a night out about a hundred times more exciting. 

Zayn is meant to meet them in a few minutes, and in the meantime, they make their way through the crowd to the bar. Louis can’t deny the burst of energy that courses through his veins when the bartender hands he and Niall their drinks. Before he takes the first sip of his rum and coke, he closes his eyes and takes a moment to appreciate the bass thumping through his body. 

Niall clangs his glass against Louis’ and laughs loudly, already tipsy from the beers he downed back at their place, and Louis lets himself smile. There are people everywhere, dancing and singing along with the music, and over on the darkest side of the room, Louis can see the shadows of vampires making out with and feeding from people up against the wall. 

Niall taps him on the shoulder to reclaim his attention and Louis startles slightly, breaking his gaze away. The music is too loud to make out what Niall’s saying, but when he gestures over toward a group of tables in the corner, Louis nods. He’s really not in the mood to dance tonight, but he welcomes the chance to rest his feet. 

There’s still the ghost of a smile on Louis’ face when he sees a familiar figure leaning against the wall beside the group of tables Niall is leading them toward. His hair is pushed back, but Louis can see the curls fighting free, and he looks so good in a black jacket and skinny jeans that Louis almost chokes on his saliva. The vampire has on the same black nail polish and rings that he wore last week, and Louis tries not to remember what those hands are capable of.

“Hello again,” a deep voice says, and Louis wonders if Niall would follow him if he ran away right now. Judging by the way Niall’s face has already lit up at the possibility of making friends, Louis assumes Niall would just stare confusedly at Louis’ retreating back if he bolted. 

Louis doesn’t respond to the greeting, but his eyes fall down to the lines of the vampire’s very dark lips. When he sees them curve into a smirk, he forces himself to look down at his glass, taking a sip that lasts just a few seconds too long to be respectable. Whatever. It’s a Friday night and Louis can chug if he wants to.

“You look familiar,” Niall says, brow furrowed as he tries to recall how he recognizes this particular vampire. Louis is still standing several feet behind Niall, but Niall reaches out to yank him a few steps closer. 

“Oh, shit!” Niall says, snapping his fingers when he places the face. “You’re the vampire who went home with this guy last weekend,” he adds, grinning obnoxiously when he motions to Louis. “Harry, right?”

When Louis forces himself to look back at Harry, he sees him smacking his gum with that damn smirk still on his face. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Niall says, clearly not registering the tension radiating from Louis’ body in waves. “I was trashed. I barely even remembered my own name by the end of the night.”

“Relatable,” says the man sitting down at the table closest to Harry, laughing. Although Louis only saw him briefly the previous week, he recognizes the guy as Harry’s partner, Nick. 

Niall reaches out to high five him and Louis bites his lip to avoid screaming out loud. Harry’s eyes are still burning holes into him, but Louis refuses to look back. He hates the awareness prickling all over his body from just the feeling of Harry’s gaze on him, raising the hair on the back of his neck and sending blood straight to his groin. 

Finally, Niall glances over at Louis again and his facial expression changes to one of understanding. 

“Right, so uh, we’ll just go find a table somewhere else. We’re expecting Zayn to show up any minute now,” Niall says awkwardly and Louis breathes a sigh of relief. He flits his eyes over Harry and Nick briefly and gives them small wave goodbye. 

“Nice to see you both,” Louis lies, beyond ready to turn on his heels without looking back. 

“Oh, please,” Harry says, and Louis closes his eyes briefly and grits his teeth. “Just sit down with us. We’ve got plenty of room at this table for you two and Zayn. Since you may not remember him, Niall, this is my friend Nick. He was here last week too, practically lives here, actually, but he became occupied even before Louis and I did.”

Nick laughs at that and gives an unashamed shrug when Harry reaches forward to squeeze his shoulder. 

Louis was far too overwhelmed by everything about the arrogant vampire standing in front of him to really focus much attention on Harry’s friends last week, but Nick seems like a nice enough guy. 

Niall is already enamored by Harry’s charm and Nick’s lack of shame, far too easy for anyone who is even remotely friendly, so Louis isn’t surprised when his friend grins and takes a seat next to Nick without hesitation. For a brief moment, Louis imagines throwing every single one of Niall’s articles of clothing, including the ridiculous paperboy hat that he wears at least five times per week, out the window of their apartment into the dumpster below. If he does it when Niall is still drunk, he can probably even convince Niall that he did it himself. 

Louis feels his phone buzz, so he interrupts his own extremely detailed daydream to glance down.

“Louis?” Harry asks when he sees him frowning. 

“Zayn isn’t going to make it,” he explains. “He got caught up with something and told us to just go home.”

“Or,” Harry suggests. “You can just hang out with us and still enjoy your night.” The vampire pulls out one of the rickety chairs, playing the role of a perfect gentleman, and he’s clearly waiting for Louis to take a seat. 

Louis sighs and flops down into the chair, suppressing the shiver that runs through his body when Harry’s hand accidentally grazes his shoulder. He knows he wouldn’t be able to convince Niall to leave now anyway, as he and Nick have already jumped into a conversation about something that Louis doesn’t care about. Rather than try to jump in himself, Louis sits there with his hands wrapped around his glass and his eyes focused on the dance floor. 

With every passing minute, it’s becoming more difficult to ignore the presence now sitting beside him, and Louis hates that he’s hyperaware of even the slightest movement Harry makes. Every time Harry leans back in his chair or raises his glass to his lips, Louis can feel the pace of his heartbeat increase. Harry can probably hear it, the bastard. 

Finally, Louis gives in and looks at him. Harry’s eyes are already on him, of course, and it looks like they’re sparkling, even in the dim lighting of the club. Louis remembers how gorgeous they were out on the balcony last weekend, and it’s difficult for him not to be sucked into them again. He takes another pointedly long sip of his drink, noting that he’s going to need a refill soon.

“So,” Harry says, circling one long finger around the rim of his glass. Louis swallows and does not think about that same finger making a similar motion anywhere on Louis’ body. 

“So,” Louis responds in a dull voice. Harry smiles at his tone, stupid dimple and all, and Louis can see the flash of his fangs very briefly before Harry forces them to retreat. It should make Louis roll his eyes, the quick and obvious display of power, of Harry’s superiority as a vampire, but instead it makes him _want_. He takes another sip and swallows hard.

“You’re very beautiful,” Harry says finally, and Louis huffs.

“You said something similar last week too. Is that the only line you’ve got?” Louis asks, voice dripping with annoyance. He’s only been in the club for ten minutes and he already regrets that he agreed to come here tonight. The last thing Louis needs is another vampire love interest in his life, not after the last experience, but here he is, forced to interact with a guy that he slept with once and should never have had to see again. If Louis gives in, he knows exactly how this will end. He’s been through it once before, after all.

“It’s not a line,” Harry says carefully, but he’s still smiling and smacking his gum. He seems completely unfazed by Louis’ attitude. “It’s just the truth.”

Louis laughs again and it sounds bitter even to his own ears. “All of you vampires are exactly the same,” he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. Niall and Nick still aren’t paying any attention to them, and Louis is grateful for that because it means he can say whatever he wants without Niall slapping him. 

Harry looks amused. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, you are. My ex-boyfriend used to act the same way you’re acting — arrogant as hell. Just because you’re a vampire doesn’t mean you’re superior to me and other humans, alright? You don’t get to come in here and use cheap lines on me like you’re guaranteed a way into my pants tonight. I don’t fall down at any vampire’s feet, not now, not ever again. You’re all so fucking full of yourselves and it disgusts me.”

Harry raises his eyebrows at Louis’ little rant, but he still has that infuriating smile on his face. “You were so fucking full of me last week and you didn’t seem disgusted by that,” he says lightly. 

An embarrassing noise of rage escapes Louis’ mouth. It’s loud enough in the club that any human wouldn’t hear it, but super senses and all that. Harry’s smile grows at the sound, but Louis is definitely not amused.

He directs a harsh glare in Harry’s direction and maintains the eye contact for at least a full minute. Finally, Harry laughs and throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. No more comments about your beauty, no more flirting, none of that. We fucked once and it was meaningless, I get it, so I’m very sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I assure you that was not my intention,” Harry says. 

His words are sincere enough that Louis almost feels guilty for being so rude, but there’s a knowing look in Harry’s eyes that suggests he’s well aware that ”discomfort” is definitely not the feeling that Louis has when he looks at him. 

Louis sighs again. 

“It’s alright,” he says, giving in. “Sorry if I was a bit of an asshole. I had some bad past experiences, so I’m a bit wary, but that rant may have been a bit over the top.” He scratches at the stubble on his jaw awkwardly. 

Harry just dimples again in response. “Ah, yes, the ex. You said.” 

He reaches across the table for Louis’ hand suddenly, and Louis stares for a second before taking it, unsure of where this is going. He shouldn’t be surprised when Harry just gives him a firm and friendly handshake, but he is anyway. Harry’s hand is surprisingly warm and very big, completely engulfing Louis’. 

Louis pulls away before Harry can feel the rapidly developing clamminess. 

“Friends?” Harry offers. The look in his eye is still far too knowing for Louis’ tastes, but Harry seems like a nice enough guy and Niall is clearly getting along well with Nick. It can’t hurt to try for friendship, right? He might as well.

“Friends,” he agrees. And with that, he downs the rest of his drink. 

 

\--

 

Though he’s only met Harry twice, Louis has three main takeaways about the vampire so far — three main takeaways in addition to the fact that he’s arrogant, of course.

Firstly, Harry Styles is incredible in bed. Obviously that doesn’t matter considering Louis has absolutely no interest in ever sleeping with him again, but you know, it’s worth noting. 

Secondly, he’s kind. After two hours of talking to Harry while Niall and Nick chatter away, even Louis can begrudgingly admit that. He’s polite, he’s respectful, and he talks about how lovely his mother is for fifteen minutes as though they’re having a heart-to-heart in a coffee shop rather than a club, so kind is probably an understatement.

Thirdly, Harry is an absolutely terrible storyteller. He goes on an average of five tangents per story and he speaks so slowly that you forget the beginning of the story before he reaches the end. Unfortunately, Louis finds this endearing. 

Harry’s deep voice drizzles over Louis like honey while he tells funny stories from his experience on the police force, and Louis finds himself hanging off of every word. By the time Harry finishes describing the time three vampires drank an entire bar’s worth of alcohol and ended up in the vampire drunk tank, a rare occurrence considering how high vampires’ alcohol tolerance is, Louis is pleasantly tipsy and in a much better mood than he had been when he arrived. 

They fall into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, just sipping on their respective drinks, and Louis knows he’s allowed his eyes to linger on Harry’s face too long when the smirk makes a reappearance. He quickly snaps himself out of his stupor, wondering if maybe he’s drunker than he thought. 

He leans over and drums his fingers on the table loudly enough that it captures Niall and Nick’s attention. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then grab another drink,” Louis informs them when they look over. Nick appears uninterested and Niall just shrugs, so Louis gets up without another word. He doesn’t look at Harry again when he walks away from the table, but he can feel the heat of the vampire’s gaze on his back.

When he makes it into the bathroom, Louis pisses quickly and walks over to the sink to wash his hands, making eye contact with himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed from the alcohol, his eyes are shining, and his hair is slightly disheveled, the sweaty strands clinging to his forehead. He looks like a hot mess, and that’s without even having danced or hooked up with anyone.

It’s not like Louis has anyone to impress tonight, of course. This is just a casual night out with his friends, new and old, and Harry’s presence isn’t affecting Louis in the slightest. 

He takes a minute to fix his fringe just in case anyway, carefully rearranging his hair and then blotting his face with a crumpled paper towel. When his handiwork is complete, he doesn’t look quite as fresh faced as he had when he arrived, but it’s as good as it’s going to get. 

_It doesn’t matter anyway,_ he tells himself again. _There’s nobody here worth impressing._

Louis dries his hands and exits the bathroom. There’s a vampire sucking on the neck of some woman in the hallway right outside, and Louis brushes past them, biting his lip to stop himself from making a sarcastic comment about the romantic atmosphere. It’s not like he has much room to judge.

Louis recognizes the song that the DJ is playing, and he hums along under his breath while he makes his way through the crowd of people standing between him and his next drink. 

He barely makes it halfway to the bar when a hand lands on his elbow, holding on too tightly to be ignored. 

“Well, well, well,” a voice says, and Louis’ blood runs cold.

He turns carefully, yanking his arm out of the vampire’s grip. 

“Luke,” he says warily, stepping back to try to put a bit more distance between them. Luke smells overwhelmingly like the cedarwood of his cologne, just like always, and the smell makes Louis feel nauseous. “Why am I not surprised to see you here?”

His voice is cold, but the tall vampire in front of him just smiles with his fangs out. His eyes are black even in the colorful lights of the club, and there’s something about him that seems so creepy to Louis now. 

“Oh, Louis, you know clubs like this are my second home. It was _Bite Me_ where I lucked out and met you the first time, wasn’t it?” Luke closes the gap between them and puts a hand around Louis’ hip. 

Louis grits his teeth. 

“May have been lucky for you, but for me, it was the start of a long, miserable relationship,” Louis says dismissively. 

He gives Luke a mocking smile and glances toward the corner where he had been sitting with Harry, Niall, and Nick. The table they were sitting at is empty, but Louis’ eyes only have to wander for a second before they fall upon Harry and Nick chatting a few feet away from where they had been before. Niall is nowhere to be seen, and Louis assumes he went to the bar for a drink or chased after whatever vampire woman swayed her hips in his general vicinity. 

“Ahhh, is that who you’re here with?” Luke asks, interrupting Louis’ thoughts.

Luke is looking over at Harry and Nick with a smug expression on his face, and it makes Louis’ stomach churn. He desperately wishes that he had managed to get their attention, but neither vampire is looking in his direction.

“What’s it to you?” Louis demands, anger coloring his voice. 

Luke chuckles, but his eyes don’t leave Nick and Harry. His fangs are still out and his hand is still on Louis’ hip, and Louis wants nothing more than to push him off him and walk away. It’s never that easy with Luke though. 

“Just trying to keep up with what vampire you’re fucking this week.” Luke says. “Oh, sorry,” he chuckles, swiping his tongue along one of his fangs. “Did I say fucking? I meant getting fu—”

“Louis,” a voice interrupts suddenly, and Louis feels a rush of relief. 

Harry is standing beside them, frowning as his eyes take in Louis’ expression and Luke’s grip on his body. When Louis looks past Harry, he can see Nick standing where Harry left him across the room. Nick’s eyes are on them and he has a slightly startled look on his face, and Louis realizes Harry probably didn’t give Nick any warning before he crossed the room at vampire-level speed. His priority was getting to Louis quickly.

“And who the fuck are you, bro?” Luke spits, and Harry’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I’m Harry,” he says, voice strained like he’s trying very hard to be polite. “I’m also the guy who’s wondering why you’ve had your fangs out this entire time. I’d hate for you to accidentally bite your own lip, man. Just looking out for you.” 

Louis is quite impressed by Harry’s ability to add an infuriatingly mocking tone to his morbid voice when necessary, and he doesn’t have to be inside Luke’s head to know how much it’s probably pissing him off. 

Luke doesn’t just have a superiority complex when it comes to humans — it also applies when it comes to any vampire who doesn’t share his worldview. Louis has only talked to Harry for a few hours, but it’s obvious that he misjudged him earlier. Harry may be able to turn on the arrogance and charm when he wants to, but Harry doesn’t actually believe that he’s better or more important than Louis, or any other human, for that matter. If it weren’t clear enough from Harry’s interaction with Louis, the passion he shows for his work in a police unit that focuses on vampire-on-human crime makes his respect and concern for humans undeniable. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Luke spits, the aggression in his voice apparent. “I know just how to use these.” He runs his tongue over his fangs menacingly and looks at Louis. “You remember, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

Louis can’t keep the grimace off his face at that. He finally maneuvers out of Luke’s grip and takes a step toward Harry, more than ready to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible. The air around Harry’s body feels heavier somehow, and Louis can see that it’s requiring an incredible amount of self-control for Harry to hold himself perfectly still. His body is tense, like a rubber band seconds before it snaps, and there’s a muscle working in his jaw, but he doesn’t take Luke’s bait.

“Were you coming over to say we’re leaving?” Louis asks, looking up at Harry and ignoring Luke’s comment entirely. He hopes his eyes are desperate enough that Harry will just go along with whatever he says.

“Yeah, actually,” Harry says, lying smoothly. He glances dismissively at Luke once more before returning his intense gaze to Louis’ face. “I called an Uber and they’re outside now, so we should go.” 

Louis nods gratefully before flashing Luke a sweet and entirely fake smile. 

“Bye, Luke. I’d say it was nice to see you, but you know my mom taught me not to tell lies.” 

Louis throws his middle finger up for good measure, and though he and Harry start walking away before Luke can react, Louis sees Harry dimpling in his peripheral vision.

“Thanks for the save,” Louis mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Harry to hear. 

“No problem,” Harry says. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say that was your ex.” It’s not phrased as a question, but Louis nods anyway. Harry hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything else.

The crowd parts for them as Harry leads Louis across the bar, making it clear that Louis isn’t the only person affected by Harry’s commanding presence. It’s more than just being a gorgeous vampire — there’s something about Harry that makes people look at him in awe. If pressed, Louis might admit that it gives him a level of satisfaction to be the one walking with Harry, even if it’s just for the few seconds it takes them to return to their table. 

Nick has disappeared by the time they’re back to their corner, and Louis still doesn’t see Niall around. He sighs heavily. “I guess I really should leave now that we’ve told him that,” he says, and Harry nods.

“Niall disappeared with someone a little bit ago, so I don’t think he’ll be looking to share a ride home.” 

Louis is unsurprised by the revelation, but he can’t help the concern he feels at the prospect of Niall leaving with someone he doesn’t know considering the current danger lurking at bars in the city. Harry realizes Louis’ concerns right away, however, and is quick to reassure him. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” he says. “Her name is Tamara and I’ve known her for years. She’ll make sure nothing bad happens to him. I wouldn’t have let him go off with a vampire I didn’t know.”

Louis sighs in relief.

“I’ll walk you out,” Harry says, and Louis feels a fluttering in his chest. 

It’s probably just heartburn. Louis can’t handle alcohol like he could when he was in college. 

Harry’s hand settles low on his back as they walk out of the bar, a gentle guiding presence that gives Louis flashbacks to the previous weekend. He finds himself wishing Harry would move his hand just a bit lower.

There are several taxis pulled up to the curb outside, but before Louis even has the chance to look around and see which are already occupied, Harry starts leading him toward one. As expected, the “taxi for hire” sign indicates that the taxi is empty.

Harry removes the hand from Louis’ back to open the door of the taxi for him, but Louis can feel the weight of it long after it’s gone. Before Louis has the chance to shuffle into the cab, Harry pulls a few bills out of his pocket and leans down to hand them to the driver through the open door. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Louis says when Harry straightens up. They’re standing very close together.

“It’s no trouble,” Harry reassures him. He has a gentle look on his face when he looks at Louis, and it makes Louis’ gut clench. He wants very badly for Harry to kiss him, which he fully realizes is ridiculous considering he wanted to strangle Harry a few hours earlier. Louis doesn’t know Harry very well yet, but he wants to. It’s clear from even a few hours of interaction that Harry is unlike any vampire or human being Louis has ever met before. 

Harry takes a small step toward Louis then, close enough that Louis can feel his breath on his face, and Louis allows his eyes to fall closed, his lips tingling with anticipation. 

“Get home safe,” Harry says, and just like that, the moment is broken. Louis’ eyes snap open in surprise, but Harry is already stepping away. He’s smiling at Louis in a way that’s vaguely reminiscent of the cocky smirk on his face earlier in the night. “Hopefully we can all hang out again soon.”

Louis’ face feels very warm, but he pulls himself together quickly, giving a quick nod and sliding into the back of the taxi without further delay. “Goodnight, Harry,” he says. “Thanks again.” 

“Goodnight,” Harry echoes just as Louis yanks the door closed.

Louis barely manages to mumble his address to the driver, too shaken by the rapid beating of his heart. He glances back at the sidewalk outside the club once more as they drive away, but Harry’s already gone.


	3. Chapter Three

One thing that Louis has always loved about Liam, Niall, and Zayn is that they’re completely whipped to him. Sure, the more time that passes since Louis became friends with each of them, the more their ability to resist Louis’ demands has grown, but overall, Louis can still manage to convince them to do anything. Within reason, anyway.

That’s why when Louis begs Zayn to host a marathon of romantic comedies at his place using the argument that “your couch is enormous and it fits all of us comfortably and you have the biggest television, so pretty please with a cherry on top,” he manages to receive an affirmative response.

Louis stares at Zayn with his mouth open for a solid twelve seconds, shocked that Zayn would agree so easily. Apparently, Louis is such an amazing friend that Zayn is willing to do whatever he asks just because it will make him happy. He’s about to figuratively pat himself on the back for that when Zayn speaks up and ruins the fantasy.

“On one condition,” he says, a lopsided smile on his face.

Louis groans and covers his face with his hands, almost afraid to ask.

“What do you want?” He says finally, already knowing that whatever Zayn’s answer is, he probably won’t like it.

“I want to invite a friend to come. He loves romantic comedies, is obsessed, really, so I know he’ll be into the idea of a marathon,” Zayn says. “And I know that he’ll get along great with you all. Especially you.”

That seems like a rather reasonable request to Louis considering the marathon will be taking place at Zayn’s apartment, so Louis nods before his brain has fully absorbed the rest of Zayn’s words. 

“Yeah, of course, bro. It’s your place, so you should invite whoever you want. Who’re you thinking of?” Louis asks, purely out of his own curiosity. He hopes that whatever friend Zayn wants to invite won’t make fun of Louis for tearing up during The Notebook or openly sobbing during Dear John. In the extremely unlikely event that such a preposterous thing would happen, of course. 

Zayn gives Louis one of his toothiest, widest grins, the one where you can see his tongue poking out from beneath his teeth, and that’s when Louis realizes exactly who it is that Zayn’s planning to invite to the movie marathon. It’s—

“Harry Styles,” Zayn says, and Louis sighs. He knew it.

Ever since Harry walked Louis to his car outside the bar last week, Louis can’t deny that the vampire has been on his mind almost constantly. Louis’ mind goes back and forth, fluctuating between replaying the moments when Harry was an arrogant jerk and the moments where he was polite, kind, and possibly even protective. 

While Louis may be intrigued enough by Harry Styles to want to be his friend, they’re definitely never going to have a repeat of their first sexual encounter. Louis has allowed himself to think about Harry over these past few days, but he hasn’t allowed himself to replay the memories of when they slept together.

Well, he thinks about it occasionally, but only really when he’s trying to get himself off. That’s perfectly reasonable, as Louis hadn’t gotten laid in ages before that and therefore has no other vivid memories to fall back on. He’s also thought about it a few times when he’s trying to fall asleep at night, but in his defense, that’s only because his mind is close to drifting off and is therefore vulnerable to thinking about things his brain would normally ignore or dismiss.

Regardless, Louis is confident that he and Harry will be great platonic friends without any risk of something more happening again. They’ve already interacted once without hooking up or even coming close to hooking up (excusing Louis’ small blackout when he may or may not have thought that Harry was leaning in to kiss him), so there’s no reason for there to be any awkwardness or sexual tension that could ruin the marathon. It’ll be fine.

Zayn looks surprised when Louis’ only response to his request is to nod and say that he’s looking forward to the movie marathon. He clearly expected Louis to put up a fight and act offended at the mere suggestion that Harry could join in on such a sacred activity with their small, tight knit group of friends. 

Zayn just doesn’t understand though. Yes, Louis and Harry may have slept together during a moment of weakness, but that’s in the past. 

Their future as 100% platonic friends is on its way.

 

\--

 

On Saturday morning, Louis and Niall arrive at Zayn’s bright and early, arms full of romantic comedy options for the marathon. Zayn is barely functioning when he opens the door, eyes half open and a blood bag in his hand, and he takes a long sip before moving aside so Louis and Niall can step inside his apartment.

“You’re such a rude host,” Louis says, pushing past Zayn carefully to avoid hitting the blood bag. The last thing Louis needs is blood splatters on the outfit he spent an hour picking out today.

“Don’t you usually wear sweatpants to these types of things? What’s the special occasion? You’re all dressed up,” Zayn observes as he follows Louis over to the enormous L-shaped couch. Niall goes in the direction of the kitchen to steal some food from Zayn, and Louis assumes they won’t see him again until everyone else arrives.

Louis sniffs haughtily, insulted by the implication that he doesn’t always dress to the nines when he’s attending a movie marathon. He may often enjoy a good pair of sweatpants or a tracksuit when he’s going to be lounging all day, but it’s good to switch things up every once in a while. 

Louis doesn’t dignify Zayn’s questions with answers, instead opting to line the DVDs up on the coffee table in the order that Louis thinks they should best be watched. He consults Zayn on the order, of course, but Zayn shrugs, apparently indifferent. He’s probably going to end up texting his girlfriend and dozing intermittently the entire day anyway, so Louis doesn’t really care whether he approves of the order or not.

Liam and Harry arrive soon after, and Harry comes in with a platter of sandwiches that look amazing. He’s made them himself, apparently, and though it’s not quite noon yet, everyone is hungry enough to dig in right away. 

They all gather around the benches that line Zayn’s kitchen table and dig in, not speaking much for the first few minutes because they’re all too busy chewing. 

Zayn eats about half his sandwich before getting up to grab people drinks — nothing for Harry, water for Louis and Liam, coke for Niall, and another blood bag for himself.

Once all their glasses are filled with their beverage of choice, Zayn settles back in his chair, closing his eyes and humming contently as he drinks the blood from the bag in his hands. It’s not particularly appetizing to watch for the non-vampires in the room, but they’re all used to it.

“Why don’t you ever ask to drink from one of us, Z?” Niall asks in between bites.

Zayn shrugs and pulls his mouth off the bag, wiping the blood smudges from his lips with the back of his hand. “I don’t know,” he says thoughtfully. “Never really felt the need, I guess. I honestly have no issue with blood bags. I know a lot of vamps bitch that straight from the vein is better, and yeah, of course it is, but I think bags are almost as good.”

“Also,” Louis points out. “That would be awkward as hell.”

Niall and Liam frown. “Why?” They ask almost simultaneously. 

Louis stares at them both like they’ve grown an extra head. “Because people get off on being bitten? It’s like...a sexual thing. Why would you want to do that with your friend?” Louis is genuinely baffled by this conversation and wonders for a second whether his friends have completely lost all rational thought.

A noise that sounds like stifled laughter comes from Harry’s direction, and Louis glares at him.

“People don’t really get off on having vampires drink their blood, Lou,” Zayn says, and his voice sounds amused too.

Louis stares at Zayn and then flicks his eyes from Harry, to Liam, to Niall, and then back to Zayn. 

“What are you talking about?” Louis scoffs in the hopes of hiding his confusion. “People totally get off on it.” 

“Mmmm, no, that’s pretty much just you,” Harry says, taking a bite of his sandwich. 

Louis almost allows himself to be distracted by the fact that Harry’s eating tongue-first, but he’s too caught up by the words that just came out of Harry’s mouth. Louis’ own mouth gapes open in surprise. 

“No way,” Louis says, disbelieving. “If that were true, joint vampire and human bars wouldn’t be so popular and most vampires would have to rely on blood bags or blood substitutes rather than people.” 

Zayn and Harry chuckle and look at each other before turning their gaze back on Louis.

“Louis, come on. Just because people don’t get off on having vampires biting their necks and sucking their blood doesn’t mean they hate it or don’t ever want it to happen to them. It doesn’t hurt much, vampires need it, and humans often get good sex out of it, so a lot of people are totally fine with being bitten. They’re just not begging for it like you probably do,” Zayn says, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Louis is stunned into silence at the revelation. Most humans he knows have allowed vampires to drink directly from them at times, but he supposes none of them ever talked specifically about loving it or getting off on it. 

“Years ago, I was hooking up with this guy,” Harry says when he finishes chewing his current bite. Louis stomach twists uncomfortably at the mental image that gives him, but he pushes the feeling aside. “And he told me I could bite him, right. So we’d been making out for a bit, and he seemed content and ready for it to happen, so I finally go in and..........he pissed himself.”

Everyone bursts out laughing at that, and Niall laughs so hard that it actually brings tears to his eyes.

“What happened then?” Liam asks, clearly wondering whether a hookup can come back from that. 

“Honestly,” Harry says. “I gave him a pair of sweatpants to borrow, put his jeans through the wash, and made him baked ziti while we waited for the laundry to be done. We didn’t do anything else that night and it wasn’t exactly the foundation for a lasting relationship, but he went home with clean pants and some leftover ziti, so I guess it could’ve been worse.” Harry shrugs.

“What even are you?” Louis asks, truly bewildered by the man in front of him. Louis can’t even think of any humans who would bake ziti for a random hookup who wet himself or herself in their apartment, let alone any vampire.

Harry just gives Louis a small smile and takes the last bite of his sandwich.

When they all finish eating and everyone has moved on from humiliating Louis, they make their way out to Zayn’s couch. Louis is one of the last out of the kitchen, so he ends up collapsing into the last empty spot on the couch, which falls between Liam and Harry. He curls himself up into a ball under a throw blanket while Zayn puts the first movie on. To his left, Liam is sitting with perfect posture, as though someone just yelled at him to keep his back straight, while to his right, Harry is sprawled out over the cushions like he owns the place. 

Louis doesn’t have much space, so it doesn’t take more than half an hour for his and Harry’s limbs to begin touching. When Louis uncurls himself from his ball somewhat, their arms end up pressed together, and Louis’ feet, which are still up on the couch, inch closer and closer to Harry’s thigh. Louis is trying to pay attention to the movie onscreen, but he can’t stop the hyperawareness he has of every point of contact between his and Harry’s bodies.

During a more exciting scene of the movie, Louis gently burrows his feet under Harry’s thigh. It keeps his toes warm, and for some bizarre reason, he feels safe and content with the weight of Harry’s body on him. Even when it’s just on his feet. 

Louis tries not to wonder what it would feel like to have Harry on top of him fully.

Louis doesn’t look at Harry when he moves his feet underneath the vampire’s thigh, but he can feel Harry’s gaze redirect from the movie to him immediately. When Louis finally gathers enough courage to risk a glance at him out of his peripheral vision, he sees Harry with a barely visible smile on his face. 

Harry gets up to get a blood bag a few hours later, and when he does, he takes the warmth he was providing to Louis’ feet with him. Louis immediately wants him to return, and he waits anxiously while Harry takes his time sipping the blood in the kitchen, probably wanting to avoid an accidental spill on Zayn’s couch.

He expects Harry to settle down in the same place when he comes back into the room, but to his dismay, Harry puts a safe distance between their bodies. The distance is great enough that Louis can’t inch his way closer without it being obvious.

Louis tries not to pout about it, but when he hears Harry make a quiet amused sound that makes no sense in the context of the sad scene they’re in the middle of, he realizes that he’s probably failed.

Louis and Harry don’t touch again until Harry places a friendly hand on his shoulder right before he leaves Zayn’s place for a shift at work. It’s not until Louis returns home that night that he realizes he can’t even remember what movies they watched before Harry left. He was too busy thinking about the press of Harry’s body against his.

 

\--

 

Louis is in the teacher’s lounge eating lunch with Liam, Zayn, and the gym teacher, Steve, when his phone lights up. Louis’ family members and closest friends tend to avoid texting him during the school day because they know Louis often accidentally leaves his phone volume on during class, but there are occasional exceptions. When Louis glances down at his phone, worried that there might be an emergency, he doesn’t recognize the number. 

Louis doesn’t interrupt the conversation going on around him, instead simply frowning down at his phone and unlocking it quickly so he can read the message.

_Hi, Louis. Zayn gave me this number. Hope that’s alright. H._

Louis supposes it makes a lot of sense that Harry is technically in his 70s considering he apparently doesn’t know how to write a text message like a normal person. 

Louis also resents the fact that Harry assumes Louis would recognize the text is from him when he did nothing more than sign it with the first letter of his first name. A lot of people want to hook up with or be friends with Louis, so of course he’s receiving text messages from random people constantly. It’s possible that Louis’ concept of “constantly” in this particular instance is “about once every six months,” but still, Harry shouldn’t have assumed that Louis wouldn’t have had a few different people with H names that he met recently.

“Why are you randomly smiling down at your phone?” Steve asks suddenly, interrupting Louis’ stream of consciousness about Harry’s text message.

Louis wasn’t aware he was smiling, but he feels it drop off his face at Steve’s inquiry.

“I’m not smiling,” he denies immediately, which is admittedly not the brightest idea he’s ever had. 

Steve just stares at him.

“I’m not,” Louis insists, glancing around at the three faces staring at him.

None of them respond again, but Liam takes Louis’ distraction as an opportunity to snatch his phone off the table. Louis regrets trusting his closest friends with the passcode to his phone when he sees Liam unlock his phone within seconds flat. Liam then clears his throat dramatically and Steve leans forward in his seat, clapping his hands together eagerly like he’s a child who’s about to get an extra delicious dessert.

“Hi, Louis,” Liam reads, tacking on a British accent for no apparent reason. “Zayn gave me this number. Hope that’s alright. H.” Liam frowns down at Louis’ phone in confusion, but Louis can see the flash of recognition in his eyes when he realizes who H is.

Louis groans. “Blame Zayn for this! I didn’t even give him my number, Zayn did.”

Zayn sips blood out of his reusable water bottle and takes his sweet time before responding to Louis’ accusation. 

“Sorry, Lou, but I’m unclear as to how I’m responsible for you smiling down at your phone like a lovesick fool just because my friend texted you. Y’know, that same friend you slept with after claiming you would never do such a thing.”

“Ouch,” Steve says, laughing. He takes a long sip from his nasty-looking green juice, leans back in his chair, and throws his feet up on the table, clearly kicking back to watch the entertainment that is Louis’ life play out before his very eyes. Steve always has loved a good show, the nosy bastard.

“I was smiling because he texts like my grandfather and I think it’s hilariously embarrassing,” Louis says, grabbing his phone off the table where it’s still lying in front of Liam. “I didn’t look like a lovesick fool.” 

Liam, Steve, and Zayn all give Louis equally doubtful looks.

And of course, that’s when Louis’ phone decides to ding again. This time, Steve is the one who snatches it right out of Louis’ hand before he can even think about checking if it’s Harry again. 

Steve clears his throat, mimicking Liam’s dramatics from earlier, and then reads aloud, his smile growing with every word.

“We should get lunch tomorrow if you’re up for it. Just let me know where and what time and I’m there. H.” Steve reads Harry’s initial in the voice of an overdramatic teenage girl, even going so far as to fan himself like he’s just been overcome with lust. Louis narrows his eyes.

“I fucking hate all of you, and I’m going to eat in my classroom,” Louis says, yanking his phone out of Steve’s hand and ignoring the raucous laughter coming from his three ex-friends. Louis picks up the apple and bag of pretzels still lying in the table in front of where he was sitting and gives Zayn, Steve, and Liam an irritated look before turning on his heels and stomping out of the teachers’ lounge. 

Louis hears their laughter the entire time he’s walking down the hall. 

He’s still mumbling to himself under his breath about how he wasn’t even smiling down at his phone and how incredibly rude it is of his friends to make fun of him when he texts Harry back. 

_U text like my grandpa_

_Panera on Connecticut Ave @ 11:15AM_

 

\--

 

When Louis arrives at Panera Bread the following day precisely at 11:15AM, Harry is already there and seated by a window. He’s wearing a floral shirt that Louis thinks is absolutely hideous, which Louis tells him, of course, and Harry just waggles his eyebrows in response.

“But I pull it off, don’t I?” Harry asks, and Louis doesn’t dignify that with a response. Mostly because he’s right.

Harry orders a blood substitute and Louis orders a bowl of broccoli cheddar soup (without carrots) from a young vampire who looks like he’d rather be actually dead than undead and working at Panera. He looks even less thrilled when Louis decides at the last minute that he also wants one of the enormous cookies on display by the register, but out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Harry bite back a smile.

Before Louis gets the chance to pull out his wallet, Harry slaps his credit card down and tells the vampire employee to put both their meals on it. 

“Um, no,” Louis says, yanking his credit card out of his wallet and slamming it down on top of Harry’s.

“Put them both on _this_ card,” he says, giving the vampire a dazzling smile and ignoring Harry’s eye roll.

“I’m a cop and I could report this restaurant for at least three health code violations,” Harry tells the vampire with a smile that manages to be even more dazzling than Louis’ simply because of the fact that he has a dimple. It’s like double cheating, really, using both his job and his dimple to motivate this vampire to take his side, so of course the guy ends up pulling Harry’s card out from underneath Louis’ and swiping it. 

“Abuse of power,” Louis mutters, plucking his own card back off the counter and returning it to his wallet.

Harry thanks the vampire profusely for his time before accepting his card back and signing the receipt with a loopy and clearly well practiced scrawl of his name. 

When Harry receives his blood and Louis receives his own meal, they return to their table and settle down in the chairs, making themselves comfortable. Louis begrudgingly offers Harry a “thank you” for paying for their food, and Harry just smiles smugly, clearly enjoying Louis’ defeat, before jumping right in with his usual slew of questions.

“So how’s _Grease_ going?” He asks, and Louis pauses with spoon halfway to his mouth in surprise.

“How’d you even know that the school musical is _Grease_ this year?” Louis asks before taking his bite. 

“I’m a psychic vampire,” Harry says very seriously, and Louis accidentally swallows before he’s done chewing properly, choking somewhat. “Or you mentioned it when you were telling me how you got a ticket outside Office Max, which you followed up with a lecture about how vampires don’t appreciate the arts,” Harry finishes, looking slightly apologetic that his sarcastic comment made Louis choke on his lunch. 

“Oh right,” Louis says. He honestly forgot that he made that comment about the arts, but he remembers that Harry was making fun of him for the ticket thing. “I mean, I’m sure some vampires appreciate the arts,” he adds in an attempt to be diplomatic. He runs his fingers over his scruff awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. 

Harry nods and takes a long sip of his blood substitute. 

“Oh, definitely,” he agrees. “I certainly enjoy the arts. For example, I personally think that _Fame_ is the best musical of all time. Would you say that you agree?”

When Louis smacks Harry on the arm with a Panera menu lying on the table, Harry laughs loudly. 

“Anyway,” Louis says when Harry’s laughter dies down. “ _Grease_ is going well. My students have all been assigned parts on the cast or the crew and there were only minimal tears shed about it, so I’d say it’s an overwhelming success so far. Ask me in a few months though. I bet my answer will be different,” Louis sighs heavily at the thought. 

Harry takes a long sip of the blood substitute and smiles. “I look forward to it,” he says, and Louis realizes he’s referring to Louis’ demand that he ask how it’s going again in a few months. There’s warmth in his chest at the prospect of this friendship, or whatever it is, being something that Harry believes will be long-term, but he doesn’t comment.

Harry’s phone dings with a text message, and though Harry looks like he’s about to apologize for being rude, Louis just motions for him to check it, not particularly bothered.

Harry glances down at his phone and his face immediately drops into a frown. When he looks up again, Louis watches him attempt to rearrange his face into something more cheerful. It’s clear that he’s trying to snap out of whatever mood the text just put him in, but when he forces a tight smile, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“How’s the kidnapping case going?” Louis asks tentatively. The text message could have been about something personal or otherwise unrelated to that case, of course, but Louis has a feeling it wasn’t.

And when Harry huffs out a frustrated sigh, Louis knows he was right.

“Honestly, it’s going terribly,” he says, sounding put out. “We’ve got no real leads because nobody ever seems to notice this vampire leading off the victims. It makes sense, I guess, since people at bars are usually drunk and a lot of people leave willingly with vampires every night, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. One woman’s drunken friend said that she thinks the person is tall and brunette, but—” He sighs again, cutting himself off.

“That’s the least helpful and specific description ever,” Louis finishes for him. 

Harry nods his in agreement. “Basically,” he says.

Harry looks out the window, and for a moment, it seems like his mind is very far away.

“I have a feeling that there are two people responsible, honestly, but I have no real reason to believe that other than my own gut instinct. I’d like to find some actual proof, but so far, there’s nothing at all. And I’m not going to bring my gut feeling to my partner or my boss when nothing supports it, you know?”

Louis doesn’t really know, as he’s never been in a situation even remotely similar to the one Harry and the other members of his department are in, but he can’t imagine how infuriating it must be to not have the proof you need to even begin looking for the vampire wreaking so much havoc in DC. 

Much like the first time Harry and Louis discussed the case, Louis is left wondering what he can possibly say to comfort Harry. Even having spent limited time with him, Louis can tell that he’s taking this case hard. And Louis may not be an expert, but he’d imagine that Harry must be extremely good at his job if he really is the lead detective on the force, which Zayn mentioned to Louis privately a week or so ago. If Harry and his fellow detectives haven’t been able to solve the case yet, it’s likely not because of a lack of effort or intelligence on their part. 

Louis hopes he doesn’t hear another report of anyone going missing in DC this coming weekend. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to hear a report like that again without an image of Harry’s frown popping into his head. 

Louis changes the subject, just as he did last time, though he steers away from his own police ticket stories this time to avoid giving Harry the opportunity to tease him again. Instead, Louis tells Harry a story about how the student who is playing Sandy in the school play had a half hour argument with Louis earlier this morning about whether it would be possible for the pink ladies to wear black leather jackets and the T-Birds to wear the pink jackets. 

While Louis greatly appreciates the sentiment, he thinks it would probably confuse the audience too much. He knows Harry will probably love the idea though, especially considering the color of the jacket he wore the first night he and Louis met, and sure enough, Harry is dimpling at the story in no time. Success.

Louis gets caught up in his conversation with Harry, and the next time he glances down at his phone, he realizes that he has only five minutes to get back to school before his next class is scheduled to begin. Harry walks him back, and when they reach the school just in the nick of time, Louis hugs Harry without prompting.

As he walks up the sidewalk toward the front steps, he turns back to wave at Harry and receives a small salute in return. 

Louis doesn’t stop smiling until he reaches his classroom.

 

\--

 

If there’s anything that Zayn should know about Louis, it’s that he hates only two sports that are played with balls — golf and pool. Apparently Zayn doesn’t care about Louis at all, however, as he invites all the boys over to his place to play pool the following weekend. Louis’ glad Zayn decided to become a bit more sociable after the movie marathon, but he could definitely do without a pool night. 

Louis goes anyway, of course, because he’s a good friend and because he has nothing better to do with his life that evening. When he and Niall arrive fashionably late around 6:30PM, they find that everyone else missed the memo and decided to arrive on time. Zayn is there, of course, along with his girlfriend Gigi, Liam and his girlfriend Cheryl are there, and Steve, Harry, Nick, and another officer named Jeff are all in attendance as well.

“Does nobody arrive fashionably late these days?” Louis asks as he hangs up his jacket on one of the hooks by Zayn’s door. Zayn raises one eyebrow and shoots Louis an unimpressed look from across the room.

“You do realize that you can’t accidentally spend an extra half an hour fixing your fringe and then pretend you always intended to be fashionably late, right?” Zayn says. Louis hears Harry let out an embarrassing honk of laughter at that, and Louis’ eyes fall on him immediately.

“Sorry,” Harry says, but he’s still smiling. 

Louis chooses to rise above it like the adult that he is and ignore him, instead focusing his attention on Niall, who clearly betrayed his trust by telling Zayn what happened before they arrived.

“This is betrayal,” He informs Niall, and Niall shrugs, clearly unmoved by the accusation.

“Sorry, dude,” Niall says. He doesn’t look sorry at all.

Louis rolls his eyes and goes over to get something to eat off the table that Zayn (or more accurately, that Gigi) has arranged with snacks, plucking up some grapes, chips and salsa, and a piece of pizza. It’s an unusual combination in terms of food, but Louis has eaten worse.

Zayn and Liam are locked in an intense competition at the pool table, but Harry, Nick, and Jeff are all standing chatting just across the room from where the food is arranged, so he decides to take the risk and approach them.

“Hi, Lou,” Harry greets kindly.

Louis gives him a little half wave, his mouth too full to respond, and Harry’s smile widens.

“I’m Jeff,” Jeff says, reaching out to give Louis a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, Louis.” 

When Louis finishes chewing, he echoes the sentiment and then finishes off his greetings by offering Nick a smile. Nick smiles back before giving Harry a significant look, and Louis isn’t sure what that means, but he just ignores it.

“Do you guys like pool?” Louis asks as he glances over at the game taking place between Liam and Zayn. Gigi and Cheryl are standing right beside the pool table talking amongst themselves, and Louis is pretty sure they haven’t bothered checking what’s happening with the game in a while despite the fact that it’s going on right beside them. 

“No,” Nick and Jeff answer his question simultaneously. Harry, unsurprisingly, responds with a “Yes.”

Louis chuckles.

“I bet you enjoy golf too,” Louis says, and Harry’s eyes go wide, caught out. 

Jeff laughs loudly. “When it comes to sports, Harry’s tastes suggest that he has both an elderly man and a frat boy trapped inside his vampire body at the same time,” he explains, voice fond. 

Harry rolls his eyes and shoves Jeff hard. Jeff is a vampire too, of course, so he doesn’t move an inch, instead simply choosing to retaliate with a punch to Harry’s shoulder that would probably make Louis cry hysterically if someone had directed it at him. Harry merely rolls his eyes a second time, of course.

“We were forced by Harry to come to this,” Nick informs Louis. “I wanted to go out, and boring old Jeff here was even willing to come out with me, which is unbelievably rare, but instead, Harry dragged us here to suffer.”

Harry chugs the blood from the glass in his hand as though he’s chugging down a bottle of alcohol, head thrown back, and it’s obvious that he lives for the dramatics. Louis can respect that because he does too.

“I was doing you a favor, Nicholas, if you really think about it,” Harry says when the glass is empty. He reaches out to touch Nick on the shoulder gently as though he’s expecting to receive a profound thank you.

“Oh yeah?” Nick asks. “I can’t wait to hear this explanation. Do tell, Harold.” 

Harry looks at him and smirks, and Louis takes comfort in the fact that he isn’t the only one who wants to slap that look off of Harry’s face, as Nick looks like he’s about to. He could too, unlike Louis, so Harry had better watch out.

“You’ve been rapidly sleeping your way through the entire population of human males,” Harry says, his dimple appearing as he speaks through a smile. “If you don’t take a night off every once in a while, you’re going to run out of one night stands, and then what’ll you do? Stake yourself?” 

Jeff joins Harry in laughing at Nick’s expense, and Nick groans.

“You’re the fucking worst,” Nick says. 

“Do you ever sleep with vampires?” Louis asks Nick. He doesn’t really care about Nick’s sex life, if he’s being honest, but he wants to ask Harry the same question, and he figures this is the best way to ease into it.

Nick shrugs. “Sometimes, but not so much lately. It’s been a few months since the last time, I think.”

Louis nods, pretending to care, and then turns to Jeff.

“And you?” He asks.

Jeff looks highly amused by the question, but he answers anyway.

“I have a vampire girlfriend,” he explains. “Her name is Glenne and we’ve been together for a while.” 

Louis smiles, unable to help himself. He loves hearing about people in happy relationships, and he can tell by just the tone of Jeff’s voice that he loves his girlfriend very much. Nick is apparently less than touched, however, as he makes mock gagging noises in response to Jeff’s words. Once again, Louis ignores him.

“And what about you?” He asks Harry, hoping that his voice sounds completely casual. He probably doesn’t quite pull it off considering Harry is looking at him like he sees straight through the facade, but Louis forces himself to maintain eye contact without flinching or giving away any weakness.

“Harry doesn’t really sleep with anybody,” Jeff butts in.

Louis turns his head and looks at Jeff in surprise, expecting him to laugh afterwards, but Jeff’s face is completely serious. Louis realizes suddenly that Jeff is probably completely unaware of Louis and Harry’s history. He wasn’t there the night that Louis and Harry went home together, and since Harry and Jeff aren’t partners, they don’t work together on a daily basis. It probably never came up.

“That’s not true,” Harry whines, and for the first time since Louis has met him, he sounds embarrassed.

Jeff reaches out and pinches Harry’s cheek, which causes Harry to swat his hand away.

“Alright, fine. Harry sleeps with people....very rarely. I’ll put it that way. Better?” Jeff asks, and Harry huffs.

“I’m getting another fucking drink,” he says, walking away from the group in a tiff.

After how good the sex was, Louis is genuinely surprised to find out that Harry isn’t out every weekend getting laid. Louis is quite confident in his own abilities and it takes two to tango, of course, but he can’t deny that Harry did a lot of the work when they hooked up. And it doesn’t matter, of course, but the knowledge that Harry sought him out that night when he doesn’t usually do that.....well, it’s making Louis’ insides sing a bit. Not that he’d ever admit such a thing out loud.

Now that Harry isn’t standing with Nick and Jeff, Louis grows bored quickly. When he finishes eating the rest of the food on his plate, he wanders over to where Niall and Steve have been talking animatedly since Louis and Niall arrived. 

Steve immediately asks Louis if he’ll do a game of pool with him, as Niall claims he’s “too full to play,” and Louis begrudgingly agrees, not sure what else to do to pass the time.

Zayn and Liam have just finished up their own game, so Louis and Steve are free to take over the pool table.

Louis gives his best effort, he really does, but he’s only played pool a handful of times in his life, and most of the time, he was wasted and just looking for his excuse to shake his ass at cute guys. Steve, on the other hand, seems to be good at pool and pretty much everything else in the world, so it takes almost no time at all for him to start kicking Louis’ ass. 

Louis is trying to think of excuses to bail out of the game early when he hears a deep voice in his ear.

“You’re not holding your cue right,” Harry says. Louis hates how easily Harry is able to sneak up on him, and he almost wants to ask if he can tie a bell around his neck. Considering Harry’s rather wild fashion tastes, it would probably look like a fairly normal accessory on him. Louis considers asking about it later just to see Harry get offended. 

“I’ve played pool before,” he replies, annoyed at the suggestion that he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Maybe he’s not a pool expert, but he knows how to hold the fucking pool cue right. 

When Louis goes in to make his next shot, he’s far too aware of Harry behind him, judging him for the way he’s holding the cue, probably, and it makes it impossible to concentrate.

“Fine,” Louis says, straightening up and looking at Harry with exasperation. “Show me how to do it then. But let’s not try to duplicate any weird pool playing scenes from a romantic movie, alright? Keep it rated G.”

Harry raises one well-groomed eyebrow. “Why would it be like a scene from a romantic movie, Lou?” He asks in an unconvincingly innocent voice. “We’re friends, remember? No interest in each other beyond that.” 

Louis can’t even tell if Harry is making fun of him or not anymore, and that’s the most annoying part. He swallows and nods rather than dwelling on it.

“Obviously,” he agrees, and gestures for Harry to continue.

Harry presses up against Louis’ back, reaching around him as he leans over the table. He rearranges Louis’ hands on the cue and changes the positioning of his shoulders slightly. His body stays pressed up behind Louis, ensuring that his posture and technique is correct, and when Louis makes his shot, he sinks the ball easily.

Louis lets out an excited whoop and is about to turn around to high five Harry in appreciation for the help, but the second he sank the ball, Harry stood up straight and put several steps of distance between them.

Louis frowns at that, but then he remembers that Steve has been standing on the other side of the table this entire time. When Louis glances over to see his competitor’s reaction to his successful play, he sees Steve staring at him and Harry with his eyebrows about as high on his forehead as they can possibly go.

“Harry, right?” Steve asks. Harry startles, apparently having forgotten that he and Steve haven’t been introduced yet, and he moves over to Steve quickly, reaching out his hand to shake. Steve takes it with a kind smile.

“Yes, I’m Harry. I’m so sorry for being rude,” Harry says politely. “You’re Steve, right? It’s lovely to meet you.”

“You too,” Steve says before lining up his next shot. “Ever since I saw Louis smiling to himself about your text messages in the teachers’ lounge, I’ve been wanting to meet—“

“Anyway,” Louis interrupts, red alert sirens going off inside his head. “So glad you both met. Now Harry, thank you so much for showing me the correct way to hold the cue, you saved my life and my dignity, clearly, but if you’d let us get back to our game, that would be great.” He gives Harry a wildly distressed smile.

Harry puts his hands up, accepting his fate. “Of course,” he says, that annoying smugness back in his voice as he takes a slow step backwards. “I’ll just text you from across the room, okay, Lou? So you can smile down at my texts some more.” 

Louis reaches out to smack Harry on the chest for that comment, face flushed with embarrassment, but Harry uses his vampire speed to his advantage, and by the next time Louis’ hand is extended, Harry is already across the room.

Louis turns back to Steve, who just nailed his shot. 

“Thanks so much for that,” he says sarcastically.

Steve shrugs, looking far too unapologetic considering his huge mouth.

When Louis’ phone dings with a text message a few seconds later, Louis buries his face in his hand and refuses to look at it for ten minutes. Or at least five. Possibly two, but nobody is counting anyway.


	4. Chapter Four

When there’s a knock on the door, Louis and Niall are standing in the living room discussing whether moving the bookcase five inches to the left is a suitable alternative to cleaning the wine stain on the carpet. They’re both in favor of the idea, so it’s less of a discussion and more of an agreement — they’ll move the bookcase tomorrow.

As Niall walks over to open the door, Louis feels his stomach lurch. He’s been feeling a bit off all day, shaky and exhausted, and while he took note of his paler than usual complexion in the mirror while he was getting ready, he figured it was just the result of lack of sleep. As his mouth begins to water and the contents of his stomach make their way up his throat, Louis realizes he was wrong. He was very, very, very wrong.

He presses his hand against his mouth as he rushes to the bathroom, willing himself not to vomit all down his front while Niall is opening the front door. He just makes it to the toilet before he’s sick, violently so, and over the blood rushing in his ears, Louis can hear Niall awkwardly greeting the person at the door. Louis is sure they’re able to hear what’s happening quite clearly, and as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and feels tears prickling at his eyes, his face feels hot from embarrassment. Louis absolutely despises being sick when other people are around.

Louis can hear the faint sound of voices in the living room and he tries to make out what they’re saying, but not even another minute passes before he’s getting sick again. Thankfully, the second time slows the churning enough that he feels like he can flush the toilet without worrying about throwing up again in the meantime. His throat burns painfully with every swallow, and the taste in his mouth is beyond unpleasant. 

Louis blindly reaches up to pull the lever and flinches at the loud flushing sound. He wants to stand up and brush his teeth, but he’s not certain he would be able to even if he tried. His small frame is shaking with chills, and Louis just wants to be curled up under a pile of blankets, but his bed has never felt further away.

“Should I be offended?” Harry asks from the doorway. 

Louis groans and presses his forehead against the toilet seat. 

“You arrived just in time to witness my death,” Louis says dramatically, rubbing one hand in circles over his stomach in the hopes that the motion will settle it somewhat.

“Clearly,” Harry says, and Louis doesn’t have to turn around to know that he’s smiling. “Niall said you were fine just a few minutes ago, so what pushed you over the edge? I knocked on the door and you couldn’t hold your lunch in any longer?” 

Louis finally directs a glare over his shoulder. Harry is wearing a long red coat and skinny jeans, and he looks unfairly good, especially considering any effort Louis put into his appearance was rendered useless when he start vomiting.

“I’ve felt off all day. If I were going to throw up at the sight of you, it would have happened the first time. And trust me, it was a close call,” Louis says, keeping his gaze on Harry. He’s not sure how intimidating his glare is, what with his shaking body and his brow damp with sweat, but he does his best.

Harry’s mouth transforms into Cheshire cat grin at that, and Louis gets the urge to projectile vomit on his face. 

“That’s funny because I don’t remember you saying the look of me made you sick that first day. Do you need me to remind you of the things you did say?” Harry asks, that annoyingly cocky tone in his voice.

“I’m sick,” Louis says with a pout. “Stop bullying me.” 

He presses his face against the porcelain of the toilet seat again, suddenly feeling very worn out. He just wanted to go to the movies with Niall and Harry, and now he’s here, sick and destined to spend the night on the cold tile floor of the bathroom. And worse, Harry is here to witness it all.

Louis reaches on the counter for his toothbrush, which is thankfully still wet from when he rinsed it off after brushing his teeth a half hour before, and toothpaste. He does his best to ignore Harry’s presence entirely while he cleans out his mouth from his place sitting on the floor, spitting the toothpaste into the toilet when he’s done. His mouth tastes a thousand times better when he finishes, but his stomach is still protesting angrily. 

When Louis tosses his toothpaste and toothbrush back on the counter, he sees that Harry is still standing a safe distance from him in the doorway, watching him silently. Louis doesn’t blame him for not wanting to get any closer, but he can’t help but wish that someone would run his fingers through Louis’ hair and press a cool hand to his forehead. 

Since Harry is right there, Louis’ traitorous brain has made the vampire into the person Louis wishes was doing the comforting, but that’s only because he’s sick and vulnerable. Under normal circumstances, Louis would never require comfort from Harry Styles.

Louis knows without having to ask that Niall has retreated to his bedroom. He’s never done well with illness, always keeping his distance and not-so-subtly spraying everything in sight with disinfectant when a sick person so much as breathes in the near vicinity. Louis sighs heavily. However long this nausea lasts, he knows Niall won’t be playing nurse.

“Up we go,” Harry says, voice suddenly closer than it had been a minute earlier. Before Louis even realizes what’s happening, Harry has gathered him up in his arms bridal style and is carrying him back to his bedroom. He grumbles out a quiet sound of protest, but it’s mostly for show. Louis isn’t sure he would have been able to make it to his bed or the couch on his own anyway. Harry just shushes him, so Louis is pretty sure he knows.

If Louis were feeling better, he would appreciate how gentle Harry is with him, but as it is, Louis just focuses on trying not to throw up all over his temporary prince charming. 

When the reach the bedroom, Harry sets him down on the bed delicately. 

Louis knows he probably looks revolting at the moment, skin pale and clammy, hairline damp with sweat, t-shirt wrinkled and hanging off one of his shoulders, exposing his collarbones. Harry doesn’t seem to notice though, expression filled with concern, and when Louis closes his eyes tightly as though that will ward off the new wave of nausea turning in his stomach, Harry just reaches over and gently sweeps the sweat-damp hair off his forehead.

“Ugh,” Louis groans, covering his face with his hand. “Are you going to stay?”

Harry is concentrating on tucking Louis into his bed, neatening up the mussed sheets and pushing them under Louis’ body to ensure that he stays toasty warm. 

“That’s the plan, yes,” Harry says, finally satisfied with his work. He takes a step back and gazes down at Louis with a sympathetic look on his face, and Louis feels insecure suddenly. There’s something about Harry’s eyes on him that always makes him want to look and be as impressive as possible, but he’s anything but at the moment. 

Harry seems to sense his insecurity and shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, and Louis hates how well Harry knows him already. “I’m going to go make you soup and track down some crackers in that disaster of a kitchen. Don’t go anywhere,” he says with an over exaggerated wink. 

Louis groans again and wiggles further down into the blankets, hoping to look as pitiful as possible. 

Harry stops before leaving the room and smiles at him fondly from the open doorway. He’s so beautiful that it’s almost painful to look at him for too long, so Louis closes his eyes.

“Back in a flash,” Harry says, and Louis hears the telltale whoosh of air he leaves in his wake.

It feels like only a moment later that Louis is blinking awake tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. His stomach is grumbling angrily, but Louis can’t tell if that’s because it genuinely wants food to curb hunger or because it’s goading him into eating so his stomach can empty itself again. 

He realizes why he awoke from the unintended nap a second later when Harry sets a bowl of soup down on the night stand beside him. Louis looks up at Harry, blinking dazedly. 

“Where’d you get that?” He blinks, feeling disoriented from his short nap. He has no idea how long he was even asleep.

“Your kitchen was startlingly empty, so I ran to that place on the corner and got you some soup and crackers. I wasn’t gone more than fifteen minutes. Fast legs and all that. Do you need me to bring a trash can over here in case you get sick again?”

Louis grimaces. “No, thanks. Hopefully I’ll be fine.” 

He shuffles himself into a half sitting position, back leaning on the pillows against his headboard, and he eyes the soup reproachfully when Harry hands it to him. 

“It’s chicken noodle, no carrots,” Harry says, rolling his eyes at Louis’ expression. Louis feels his face brighten and he takes the spoon from Harry’s hand happily. “I know you hate them.”

Louis frowns when he takes the first bite. He chews carefully before swallowing and then pauses, waiting to see if the soup is going to make a reappearance. Thankfully, his stomach stays calm. When Louis turns his attention back to Harry, he’s smiling. 

“I don’t even remember mentioning that I don’t like carrots,” Louis says, watching as Harry makes his way to the other side of the bed and settles down beside Louis. Harry kicks off his shoes and makes himself comfortable, wiggling his butt on the sheets a bit until he’s satisfied with his position. “I don’t remember mentioning that you could sit down either,” Louis adds, keeping his tone light. He figures that’s the least he can do when Harry’s taking care of him.

“You ordered your soup at Panera without carrots,” Harry says. “I pay attention, remember? And I just got you soup made just the way you like it, so you should probably be nicer to me.”

Louis takes another bite instead of responding, but as soon as he finishes chewing, he gives Harry a small genuine smile. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. “Really. You didn’t even have to stay, but you did this, and I really appreciate it. I’m sorry we’re missing the movie.”

“No worries, Lou,” Harry says, and before Louis has time to blink, Harry is across the room looking through the DVDs lining the shelf below his television. “We can just watch something here.” 

They end up deciding on _Grease_. Louis is bombarded with _Grease_ every single day at work, so normally he would avoid watching the movie until after the play is over, but when Harry sheepishly admits that he’s never seen it, Louis knows what they have to do. Louis also takes the opportunity to go on a brief rant about how unacceptable it is that Harry’s been alive for over seven decades, yet still never watched this incredible classic. 

(“ _Grease_ didn’t even come out until the late 70s,” Harry says as though that’s an excuse. 

“That still means you’ve had almost four decades to watch it!” Louis says exasperatedly.)

They’re less than ten minutes into the movie when Louis finishes off his soup. He places the empty bowl on the table next to him and scoots down under the blankets again, sitting up just enough to see the television screen. Harry is still sitting next to him, though his body is above the blankets, and Louis almost wants to ask him to come underneath.

“Aren’t you concerned that you’ll get sick?” Louis asks without thinking. 

Harry snorts at that, turning away from the pink ladies strutting onscreen to look down at Louis. “As if a measly little human could have such an impact on my marvelous vampire body,” he says mockingly, booping Louis on the nose for good measure. Louis scrunches his nose in response.

“Fuck you,” he says without heat. “I forgot for a second.”

“Forgot that I was one of those arrogant, good-for-nothing vampires, you mean?” Harry says, and when Louis looks at him, he flashes his fangs. 

“Don’t be fucking rude. I could actually be dying over here, you know. I am mortal, after all,” he sasses, directing a glare in Harry’s direction before his attention back to the TV. That quick glance is enough for Louis to see the smile quirking at the corner of Harry’s mouth. 

“Aww, poor baby,” Harry says, reaching over and stroking Louis’ cheek gently. His fingertips are nice and cool, and Louis tries to convince himself that’s the reason why a shiver wracks through his body at the words. It certainly has nothing to do with remembering the last time Harry referred to him as “baby.”

“Shut up and appreciate the movie,” Louis says. “And get ready to watch my students put this play on four nights in a row in a few months. I’ll expect your attendance at every performance.” 

Harry laughs and shuts up.

 

\--

 

Louis is about halfway through his lesson on how to incorporate comic relief into dramas without diluting the seriousness of the material when he notices a student in the second row looking distractedly down at her lap every few minutes. Louis is certain that she’s checking her phone under her desk, and considering how many times a week Louis has to watch his students do this (they always think they’re more subtle than they are), it’s possible that Louis shouldn’t be surprised. He is surprised though, because this isn’t just any student. 

Samantha Teasdale is usually one of Louis’ best students — she’s earned a lead role in two plays so far and she’s always one of the first to raise her hand when Louis asks a question. Louis has never seen her gaze even wander distractedly to the window during class, so the fact that she’s frantically checking her phone is very out of the ordinary.

Louis has a zero tolerance policy for cell phone use in class, so normally what he would call her out and keep her phone on his desk until the end of class. He’s never seen this from Samantha before though, so he does his best to ignore it.

When the bell sounds and his students begin meandering out the door slowly, Louis calls out to her. 

“Hey, Sam, could you hold back for a second?”

Samantha startles slightly from where she’s still perched in her chair, shoving books into her bag carelessly. She makes eye contact with Louis and nods, and Louis can see from ten feet away that there are dark circles under her eyes. He feels the first dawning of worry in his gut. 

When the classroom is empty except for the two of them, Samantha lifts her bag and approaches Louis where he’s sitting on his desk, legs dangling.

“What’s up?” She asks, rocking on her feet nervously. 

“You seemed a bit distracted in class today,” Louis says kindly, nodding in the direction of the phone clutched in her left hand. “That’s a bit out of the ordinary for you, so I wanted to make sure there isn’t anything wrong.”

Louis doesn’t know what he expects Samantha to do or say in response, but what he definitely doesn’t expect is for her eyes to spill over with tears. 

“Hey, hey,” Louis says worriedly, turning around and reaching over to try to fish some tissues out of the top drawer of his desk. “You’re not in trouble, Sam, I promise. What’s wrong, hun?”

Louis’ fingers finally close around the tissues and he yanks them out of the drawer, handing them frantically to Samantha, who is starting to full on sob now, her bag abandoned on the floor as tears trail down her face. 

It takes Samantha a few minutes to calm down enough to talk, and Louis just sits patiently while she takes shaky breaths, offering soothing words and an occasional awkward pat to her shoulder. 

“Sorry,” Samantha finally says. Her face is red and she looks unbelievably young and sad, and the sight tugs at Louis’ heartstrings. Maybe it’s because of how many siblings he has, but Louis has always hated people crying, especially kids and teenagers. He never likes to see anyone upset.

“It’s okay, Sam. You don’t have to apologize for being upset. Do you want to talk about what’s wrong? Or do you want to go see the school counselor? I can excuse you from your next class, just say the word.” Louis hands her another tissue and tries not to jump when she blows her nose loudly enough to wake the dead.

“My sister is missing,” Samantha finally explains, voice small. “She went to a bar over the weekend with her boyfriend and some friends and she never came home.” 

Louis feels his stomach drop. 

“The police know, right?” He asks.

Samantha nods and dabs at her eyes again. “Yeah, they called them right away, but they said it was probably a vampire. Apparently it’s been happening to a bunch of people. They were long gone by the time the cops got there, and nobody’s spotted her since.” 

Louis pats the spot next to him on his desk, encouraging Samantha to sit down. She only hesitates for a second before jumping up and dangling her feet next to Louis’. Louis looks down at their feet and listens to Samantha sniffle. 

“I don’t even know what to say, Samantha, but I’m so sorry.” Louis says softly. “I can’t imagine how sad and scared you must be, and I totally understand why you were distracted today. If it were one of my sisters, I’d be frantically checking my texts and the news reports too. Do you think maybe you should go home for the rest of the day? I can talk to your other teachers about getting your work so you can do it at home with your family instead of having to sit here pretending to be focused when your mind is a million miles away.”

He glances at Samantha and sees her nodding, eyes filled with tears again. 

Louis knows there’s absolutely nothing he can say to make this easier for his student, and that makes him feel so frustrated. No family deserves to have to deal with what Samantha’s family is dealing with. A young woman went to a bar with friends and her boyfriend for some fun, and now she may never go home again. It makes Louis furious.

“Thanks, Mr. Tomlinson,” Samantha says quietly. 

Louis gives her a small smile and nudges her with his shoulder. 

“No problem, Samantha,” he says. He hops off the desk and is about to walk over to his classroom phone so he can call the office and let them know that Sam needs to go home for the day, but he stops himself and turns around.

“I have a friend on the vampire police force, you know,” Louis says, and Samantha’s face perks up.

“You do? A vampire officer?” She asks, eyebrows raised.

Louis nods. “Yup, and he just so happens to be working on these kidnapping cases.” 

Samantha’s eyes go even wider. “What’s his name?” 

Louis smiles. “His name is Detective Styles,” he explains, and her brow furrows. 

“I think he’s one of the officers who came over last night,” she says. “Is he kind of, um....” 

Louis looks at her rosy cheeks and smirks. “Cute? Handsome? Yes, he is. Very.” 

Harry isn’t here to get that cocky look on his face, so Louis sees no reason to lie.

When Louis sees Samantha start to smirk at his response and watches her eyebrows rise up to her hairline, he immediately regrets his honesty. He’s still traumatized from when his students called him out for checking out the maintenance guy who fixed one of the desks about six months ago. 

“Anyway,” Louis says hastily, wanting to change the subject. “He’s really good at his job, okay? And I promise you that he will do absolutely everything in his power to bring your sister home safely. So I know this is scary and terrible, but there are really good vampires who are working very hard on this case and they won’t stop until whoever took your sister and those other people are brought to justice.” 

Samantha’s biting her lip when Louis finishes talking, and she looks a little bit like she’s going to cry again, but she nods instead. “Thanks, Mr. Tomlinson,” she says, and Louis gives her a small smile. 

As he dials the number for the office, he makes a mental note to talk to Harry about Samantha’s sister. It was bad enough having to hear about the case on the news or from Harry, but now knowing that one of his best students is being personally affected by what’s happened, it’s only hitting Louis harder. 

He can’t wait for the person responsible for this to be found, and he hopes with every fiber of his being that when they are, Harry, Nick, and the others on the police force will be able to bring all the victims home.

 

\--

 

Louis calls Harry on his walk home from work, knowing that he should be on his break at the moment and will be able to answer. Sure enough, Harry picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, Lou,” he greets, and Louis can hear the smile in his voice.

“Uh, hey,” Louis says, and he was going to try and make small talk for a few minutes, but he can tell his voice is off from the first word. So can Harry, of course, and he immediately comes back with a concerned response.

“Are you okay? What’s up?” Harry asks. Louis can picture his face perfectly — his brows furrowed with concentration, his lips in a straight line, his dimple nowhere to be found.

“I had a student who was really upset after class today,” Louis explains. “She’d been checking her phone all through class, unusual behavior for her, so I pulled her aside and confronted her about it. She immediately started crying, and it turns out that her sister went missing this past weekend.”

Louis hears Harry sigh through the phone.

“Was this girl a Teasdale?” He asks. 

Louis nods before realizing that Harry can’t see him. 

“Yeah,” he says, and Harry sighs again.

“I met her with her family last night. Sweet girl,” he says, and he sounds exhausted. “I’m doing everything I can.”

Louis frowns, unhappy that Harry even feels the need to say such a thing. “Of course you are, H. Nobody doubts that, and especially not me. I know how hard you’ve been working on all of this.”

Harry is silent for a while, and Louis speaks up again, more softly this time.

“This case is really getting to you, isn’t it?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, it is,” Harry says. “It’s not fair, what’s happening to those men and women. They just went out to have a good time, you know? Some of them wanted to drink, or dance, or get laid, or whatever, and for a vampire to do this to them, to exploit their weaknesses and take them, just so they can be sold to someone as their own personal blood source, it’s just.....it’s not fucking fair.”

Louis has known Harry for long enough now that these types of statements shouldn’t surprise him, but they somehow still do. Harry cares so much about humans, and it’s so abundantly clear that he thinks of them as equals. Louis couldn’t picture a better vampire detective to be on the police force helping to protect humans and bring vampires who commit crimes against them to justice. 

“I know it’s not, H,” Louis says. He doesn’t know what else to say.

He and Harry don’t speak for the next several minutes, but they both stay on the phone, just listening to each other breathing and hoping with everything they have that this case will be solved soon.

 

\--

 

On Saturday afternoon, Niall is at work and Louis is bored to death. Everyone seems to have plans, and normally Louis would just lounge around and watch Netflix, but he’s not in the mood today. He has too much pent-up energy and wants to do something more exciting, but most of his friends seem to have other plans.

Harry answers the phone on the second ring, and Louis is pretty sure he’s in a car based on the background noise, which doesn’t bode well for him not having plans for the day already. Louis sighs.

“Um...hello? Lou?” Harry repeats, and Louis realizes that he never actually responded when Harry said hello the first time.

“Sorry,” Louis says quickly, and Harry laughs.

“No worries,” he says. “What’s up?”

Louis pauses, and for a moment he considers not even bothering to ask if Harry has plans or not, but considering he already called and embarrassed himself, he might as well take the last step.

“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out today,” Louis says sheepishly. 

There’s silence on the other end of the phone for a minute, and Louis comes very close to just hanging up.

“We’re going to the bar later, aren’t we?” Harry asks, and he sounds a bit confused. Louis sighs again.

“Yes, but I’m bored, and I want to do something right now.” Louis fully realizes that he probably sounds like a petulant toddler, but at this point, he really has nothing to lose. At worst, Harry says no and he mopes in his apartment until the boys are ready to head to the bar, but Louis has certainly survived worse.

“I’m actually heading over to the police gym right now,” Harry says apologetically. “I mean — you could come? If you wanted, I mean. I know that’s probably not what you had in mind, but I haven’t worked out in days and—“

Louis cuts Harry off immediately. He hasn’t been to the gym in a while himself, as he usually prefers to run around and play sports, but the gym sounds like a great way for Louis to burn off some of the pent-up energy he has today. Not to mention that getting a good workout in is the perfect excuse to go a bit crazy with the unhealthy cocktails tonight.

“I’m in,” he says. 

 

\--

 

The gym that the officers use is in the building right next to police headquarters, so it’s easy enough for Louis to find. When he arrives, Harry is standing on the front steps in athletic shorts and a pink tee-shirt, and he has the longer strands of hair that sometimes hang over his forehead tucked up into the tiniest ponytail in history. 

“You ready to work up a sweat?” Harry asks in lieu of a greeting, dimpling already.

Louis shrugs. “I doubt you’ll be able to keep up with me, if I’m being entirely honest.” He raises one eyebrow as a challenge, and this is one that Louis is going into knowing that he’ll lose, but he figures it’ll be a more enjoyable gym experience if he gets to see Harry putting in his best effort.

“You’re on,” Harry says, leading him inside.

The gym is almost entirely empty when they walk in. There’s a vampire on one of the treadmills and one checking himself out in the mirror as he deadlifts, but other than that, they have the place to themselves. 

Harry immediately goes over to some machine that allows him to do chin-ups, and Louis can’t help but roll his eyes. He could do chin-ups if he were a vampire with super strength too, and he could even do them as a human if he weren’t so busy all the time educating future generations, so it’s not even like what Harry’s doing is that impressive. 

Louis chooses to be reasonable by approaching the elliptical to warm up for the rest of his workout. Unlike Harry, he has nothing to prove. Louis turns the incline up as high as he can manage, and it doesn’t take more than ten minutes before he’s starting to sweat a bit. He forces himself to stay on the elliptical for the next twenty minutes by listening to his Katy Perry playlist, and when the timer on his phone finally goes off, he gets off the machine with legs that feel more like jelly than muscle and bone.

Louis forgot Harry was even here while he was in the zone, so he glances over to see what the vampire’s up to.

He’s still doing chin-ups. He’s been doing chin-ups for thirty minutes straight. 

He’s taken his shirt off now, and Louis can see the broad expanse of muscles on his chest and stomach, his skin littered with tattoos, but of course, since he’s a vampire, he hasn’t broken a sweat. Some primal urge in the deepest recesses of Louis’ mind make him want to go find some body oil and slick Harry up a little bit to see how his muscles look when they’re gleaming, but he shuts that thought down as quickly as it surfaces. The heat must be getting to him.

Harry quickly notices him staring and hops down from the machine.

“You good?” He asks, walking over to Louis without a care in the world.

“I’m fine,” Louis says. “Great, even. Just working out, burning calories, building muscles, you know. Gym things.”

Harry’s mouth quirks with amusement. “That’s good,” he says slowly. “Would you like to practice boxing for a bit?”

Louis would love to practice boxing on Harry’s face, if he’s honest, but he’s pretty sure that’s not what Harry has in mind. As expected, Harry instead leads him over to where the gloves are and helps him wrap up his hands properly. 

Harry doesn’t put gloves on himself, but he tells Louis that he’ll show him all the beginner moves before he actually starts letting Louis throw hits at something. First, Harry stands in front of Louis and bends down, pointing out how his feet should be positioned. His face is far too close to Louis’ groin for comfort, honestly, and Louis can feel sweat beading on his forehead again. 

He tells himself to ignore it, but that only becomes more difficult when Harry starts showing Louis how he needs to be punching. Harry always does it several times to show Louis before he has Louis mimic his movements. His face is intense when he does his jabs and punches, speaking Louis through them all, and Louis can’t deny how attractive it is to see him focused on something so intensely.

Then there’s also the fact that boxing allows Louis to see Harry’s upper body move in ways that he didn’t get to fully appreciate the night Harry fucked him against the wall. Louis watches every ripple of his muscles as he moves, and it’s so fucking distracting that Harry ends up having to show Louis the same beginning moves numerous times before Louis even manages to understand all the steps. 

Louis begins to worry that Harry might think he’s just an idiot who’s unable to absorb information the first time it’s told to him, but when Louis’ eyes widen after Harry does a particularly intense move, he sees Harry smirking to himself.

Louis requests a short recess so he can go get a drink of water, and Harry waves him off.

He fills one of the small paper cups provided by the gym and chugs it before immediately filling another. He wills himself to pull it together, reminding himself that he and Harry are just friends, but he has a feeling this internal battle is going to continue as long as Harry’s shirt is off and he’s showing off his strength. 

Louis finishes drinking and crumples up the paper cup, tossing it into the trash. He’s about to rejoin Harry, having collected himself enough that he won’t be openly drooling, but Harry uses his super speed to cross the room and join Louis by the water before Louis has the chance to start walking back. 

Louis startles slightly, eyes widening in surprise, but Harry just gives him a big smile. 

“Wanted to get a drink myself,” Harry explains, and Louis shrugs. There’s a blood dispenser right next to the water dispenser in case one of the vampires need a snack while they’re working out, but Harry ignores that in favor of filling up the water bottle he brought with him.

Louis watches the movement of his throat as he swallows and reminds himself to take deep breaths. He’s not sure why he ever thought coming to the gym with Harry was a good idea, but he’s living in serious regret right now.

When Harry finishes taking a long drink, he pulls the top off the water bottle completely and pours it over his face and chest, leaving the water to careen down his skin beautifully.

Louis’ mouth drops open in surprise, and he really doesn’t understand what just happened.

“Um,” Louis says, but Harry just shrugs.

“I was getting really hot and sweaty,” he says, giving Louis a smile and then turning back to return to where they were boxing.

Louis stands in place by the water dispenser for another minute, still trying to comprehend what he just witnessed.

“Vampires don’t even fucking sweat,” Louis mutters to himself angrily before finally following Harry across the room.

Harry is quite literally going to be the death of Louis one of these days, but what a way to go.

 

\--

 

Later that night, once Louis has showered away the sweat from the gym, fixed his hair into what he generally refers to as his cinnamon roll hairstyle, and gotten dressed in black jeggings, an oversized white t-shirt, and a denim jacket, he heads over to the usual bar to meet Harry and Zayn. 

They’re already there by the time he arrives, and Zayn texts Louis their general location in the bar so he’s able to find where they’re sitting very quickly. He hugs Zayn as soon as he sees him, and when Harry goes in for a hug as well, Louis hugs back awkwardly, unable to stop thinking about the gym experience from earlier in the day.

It takes him almost a half an hour to gain the courage to make eye contact with Harry again, and by the time he does, Harry’s wandered off to the bar to get another drink.

“So how did the gym go?” Zayn asks, a knowing smile on his face.

“Whatever he told you, it’s not true,” Louis says. Zayn doesn’t say anything, but his smile doesn’t fade.

Louis’ fingers tap a rhythm against his beer glass as he waits for Harry to return from the bar, and when Zayn begins chatting with a vampire friend he seems to go way back with, Louis becomes increasingly impatient. Harry’s been gone for at least ten minutes now, and Louis doesn’t understand what’s taking him so long.

Louis stands up and looks over in the direction of the bar, his eyes scanning over the mass of people crowded there. It only takes him a few seconds to spot Harry, but the smile that comes to Louis’ face when he spots him immediately drops off his face when he sees Harry smiling down at a man he seems to be deep in conversation with. Louis can’t tell if the man is a human or a vampire, but it doesn’t matter anyway. 

He and Harry are just friends, after all, right? 

Louis leans over and tells Zayn that he’s headed to the bar to get another drink, and Zayn nods, still engrossed in his conversation. When Louis reaches the counter, he taps his hands impatiently, and one of the male bartenders approaches him right away.

“What can I get you?” He asks, and Louis hums thoughtfully.

“Can I get three shots of tequila and another beer?” He asks. The bartender looks at him doubtfully, so Louis gestures in the general direction of Zayn and the vampire he’s currently talking to, implying that he’s going to just bring the drinks over to them. The bartender shrugs and pours them all, accepting Louis’ cash as payment, and as soon as his back is turned, Louis downs all three shots himself, one after another. He then grabs the beer and makes his way back to their table. 

Zayn smiles at him when he sits back down, but he’s still having a conversation with that vampire, so Louis just sits there and sips his beer. 

While getting drunk generally happens gradually for Louis, tequila always hits him like a bus, and it’s no different this time. One moment, Louis is humming along with the song blasting through the speakers, and the next, everything around him is blurry and he barely remembers what his name is.

“I gotta pee,” Louis says suddenly to no one in particular. Nobody is really hanging out with him anyway,

Zayn hears him, of course, as he’s still only a few feet away, and he turns his attention back to Louis.

“Okay, Lou,” he says. “If you’re not back in three minutes, I’m coming after you.” 

Louis nods, barely registering what Zayn’s saying, and gets up from his seat. The room is spinning, but Louis manages to make his way through the crowd of people to the back hallway where the bathrooms are.

He can’t quite remember which bathroom is the men’s room and the signs are all blurry, so Louis takes a guess and hopes for the best, pushing open a door and walking through it.

To his surprise, he finds himself outside in the side alley of the bar. There are dumpsters to his left, and the street somewhere down the alley to his right, but Louis blinks for a moment, disoriented and unclear as to how he got here. It eventually registers that he must have gone out the exit door instead of entering the bathroom, and he’s about to turn around and go back inside when he hears a voice.

“If it isn’t my favorite ex,” Luke says, and Louis turns slowly.

Luke is leaning up against the dirty brick wall of the bar, a cigarette in his hand, and Louis isn’t sure how he didn’t notice him before. 

“Luke,” he says dumbly, still feeling very confused.

“Had too much to drink, sweetheart?” Luke asks, still sucking on the cigarette.

Louis nods. “I think I might’ve,” he murmurs. “Harry was talking to someone and I — I think I drank too much tequila, but I can’t remember how much I had.” Louis’ stomach churns as he thinks about the burn of his last shot, and for a moment, he wonders if he’s going to throw up.

“You never did react well to tequila,” Luke says as he drops his cigarette and grinds it into the pavement under his foot. He takes several steps closer until he’s right in Louis’ personal space, and Louis doesn’t want that.

“I need to go inside,” he says, trying to turn around again, but Luke reaches out to grab his arm.

Louis jerks back, uncomfortable with Luke touching him and frustrated that he isn’t being allowed to go back inside. Zayn is probably looking for him if it’s been more than three minutes, and Louis just wants to sit down. He doesn’t even have to piss anymore, but he wants to go inside. Why won’t Luke let him go inside?

“Let go,” Louis says, but Luke only tightens his grip.

“C’mon, babe,” Luke says, and Louis shakes his head, but Luke won’t let him walk away.

“Get your hand off of him.”

Louis turns his head quickly and sees Harry standing behind them, apparently just having come through the exit door. His voice is angry and his eyes are darker than Louis’ ever seen them, but Louis feels a strong sense of relief upon seeing him. He thinks he was upset with Harry a few minutes ago, but he can’t remember why now.

“Harry,” he says, starting to taking a step toward him, but then he realizes that Luke’s hand is still gripping his arm, holding him in place. Louis struggles against it for a second, but Luke still doesn’t let go.

“I said,” Harry says, stepping closer and putting his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Get your hand off of him.” 

Harry punctuates his words by taking hold of Luke’s wrist and bending it in a way that must hurt. Luke drops his grip on Louis as though he’s been burned, and he immediately uses his other hand to pull Harry off him. Louis stumbles back a few steps, unsure of what exactly is going on between Harry and Luke, but knowing that he probably shouldn’t get in the middle of it. 

Louis sees Luke reach out to push Harry away from him, but he’s no sooner put his hands on Harry’s chest before Harry is throwing him back against the wall of the building on the opposite side of the alley.

“When someone tells you to let them go, you let them go.” Harry says, watching as Luke gets to his feet angrily. “And if you ever try to put your hands on me again, I’ll have you arrested for assaulting a police officer.” 

Harry’s voice is as cold as Louis’ ever heard it. Louis is cold too, he realizes, shivering uncomfortably when the breeze hits him. He rubs his hands on his arms to try to make the goosebumps fade, but Harry interrupts him.

“Let’s go inside, Lou,” he says gently. 

Louis only takes a few steps before he stumbles slightly on the uneven pavement, his body falling against Harry’s, but Harry catches him.

“How much did you drink?” Harry asks, frowning, and Louis just shakes his head.

“You were with someone else,” Louis says. He knows that’s not an answer to Harry’s question, but in that moment, it feels like it is. Harry sighs heavily and studies Louis’ face for a moment, but when Louis blinks tiredly at him, he wraps his arm around Louis’ shoulders and leads him inside.

Harry guides him through the bar, helping him stay upright every time he stumbles, and when they make it back to their table, he whispers a few words to Zayn that Louis’ human ears can’t detect. 

“Feel better, Louis,” Zayn says, and Louis thinks that means he’s leaving now.

Harry leads him outside and into a taxi, crawling into the back seat after him, and Louis finds his eyes slipping closed. They don’t open again until the car stops outside a building, and when Louis gets out and looks up, he realizes that he doesn’t recognize where they are.

He just stumbles along with Harry, allowing himself to be led along the hallway to the elevator. When they reach the 11th floor, Harry leads him to one of the doors lining the hallway, unlocks it quickly, and guides Louis inside. 

Louis’ never been to Harry’s place before, and he wants to look around, but Harry pulls him along until they reach a particular room.

“Is this your bedroom?” He asks upon seeing the enormous bed in the center of the room. Louis’ eyes scan the walls and the furniture as he tries to identify signs that it’s Harry’s room and not just a guest bedroom, but everything is so blurry.

Harry chuckles softly.

“Yes, it’s my bedroom,” he says before walking Louis over to the bed. 

“Are we — are we gonna have sex now?” Louis asks when Harry lays him down. Louis can’t seem to get his eyes to open all the way, but that’s perfectly fine. 

Harry laughs, and that seems rude. Louis and Harry have had sex before, so why not have it again? Louis is in his bed, after all, so he doesn’t understand why Harry is trying to play hard to get. Why else would Louis be in his bed?

Louis feels his eyes slipping closed, but he’s going to ask these questions because he wants answers.

“Just go to sleep, baby,” Harry says softly, and no. No, Louis isn’t going to do that.

Louis isn’t going to do that because they’re going to have sex right this second. Or maybe in a few seconds, or a few minutes, or whenever it is that Louis manages to get his eyes opened again. 

Louis feels so tired all of a sudden, and it’s really getting in the way of the sex. He needs to wake up, but then he wonders if maybe it’s a better idea to take a five-minute nap to rest up before they go at it like animals.

Just a few minutes to rest, and then they’ll have sex.

Just a few minutes to rest.

Just a few.


	5. Chapter Five

Louis wakes up feeling like he was hit by a car. Or more accurately, it feels like he was hit by a car, and then a bus, and then maybe a semi-truck. Multiple vehicles, definitely, and each hit him without even trying to slow down, judging by how he feels. 

Louis groans and opens one eye. And that’s when he realizes that he has no fucking idea where he is. 

As he glances around, he sees that he’s lying in a king-sized bed with gray sheets. It’s unbelievably comfortable, he’s willing to admit, and the entire room has a nice atmosphere to it. The walls are also gray and the theme of the room is dark, but it’s not intimidating or unfriendly. It just makes Louis feel cozy. 

There’s a water bottle full of dark liquid on one of the night tables, and Louis doesn’t have to look closer to know that it’s blood. A vampire, then. He came home with a vampire. It’s not surprising considering Louis’ preferences, of course, but Louis has had a bit of a one-track mind lately. He definitely doesn’t have the urge to hook up with random vampires he sees or meets these days. He pretty much only wants...

Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Harry probably went home with whoever he was talking to at the bar, and Louis went home with whoever he ended up finding at the bar after he drank his weight in alcohol. It all worked out the way it was supposed to.

The only light in the room is a thin ray of sunshine coming in through a gap in the curtains, and while Louis would like nothing more than to curl up in the darkness of the room and go back to sleep until this pounding in his head goes away, he should probably figure out where the fuck he is first. 

Louis forces himself out of the bed and pads over the soft carpeting to the open door that he assumes leads to the bathroom. It’s a nice bathroom with expensive décor, a shower to die for, and a collection of skin products that probably cost more than Louis’ life is worth. Fucking vampires.

He takes a piss quickly, and when he goes to wash his hands, he notices a bottle of Advil and a glass of water sitting on the counter. There’s a note with a smiley face on it, and Louis doesn’t know whether to be annoyed or endeared by how thoughtful this mysterious vampire is.

Louis takes the pills and finishes the glass of water, only partially quenching his hangover thirst, before finally making his way out of the bathroom and the bedroom. He’s still dressed in boxers, his clothing abandoned on the floor of the bedroom, and another man would probably get fully dressed before wandering around a random vampire’s apartment, but Louis is too curious to wait. 

He walks down a hallway, passing multiple closed doors without doing more than eyeing them with interest, and discovers that the hall opens up to an enormous kitchen. The kitchen is significantly brighter and more airy than the bedroom, and Louis likes it just as much, but in a different way. It’s obvious that whoever lives here is big on cooking, and Louis is delighted to see a plate of food under some aluminum foil sitting right there on the counter waiting for him.

“Eat me!” A small note next to it says, and Louis rolls his eyes before uncovering a stack of pancakes and some bacon. Sadly, mystery vampire hasn’t thought of everything, because when Louis glances around, he doesn’t see any syrup.

Louis looks around the room, eyes scanning the seemingly endless row of cabinets, feeling slightly intimidated. It takes him four tries to find the cabinet that seems to contain breakfast foods, everything from cereal to pancake mix, and Louis can’t help but roll his eyes at the fact that a vampire, someone to whom human food is optional, has a significantly better cereal cabinet than Louis. Louis is supposed to be the king of cereal. 

Of course the syrup is on the top shelf. Louis glances behind him wearily, half expecting a vampire to appear out of nowhere, but when the coast remains clear, he decides to just go for it. He uses his arms to pull himself up onto the counter and is about to rearrange his limbs so that he’s kneeling when he feels two hands touch his hips.

Louis shrieks. It’s the least manly thing he’s done in a while, but in his defense, the touch came absolutely out of nowhere. His body jolts too, and he would almost certainly have ended up in a painful heap on the floor if the person who touched his hips weren’t there to steady him.

And who is this mysterious vampire?

“Harry?” Louis asks when the vampire has steadied him enough that his ass is fully seated on the counter again.

“Um, yeah,” Harry says, expression somewhat confused. 

“What are you doing here?” Louis asks, eyes wide as he watches Harry reach over his body to grab the syrup.

“This is my apartment,” Harry says slowly. He has one eyebrow raised, and now that Louis’ heartbeat has slowed down enough that he can begin to work out what's going on, Louis realizes that Harry must not have gone home with that random guy - he went home with Louis. Louis knows Harry would have never slept with him in the state he was in last night, but Harry still brought him home and took care of him. 

As Louis also begins to familiarize himself with his surroundings, he realizes that Harry is shirtless and wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs. He’s also standing about two inches in front of Louis’ legs, which are dangling off the counter. Close enough to touch.

“Sorry,” Louis says, shaking his head to try to snap himself out of it. He’s not sure if it’s his hangover or the memories of the gym yesterday or what, but he’s really struggling to keep his eyes off the tattoos across Harry’s arms and chest. “I couldn’t remember where I was,” he explains, and Harry doesn’t look surprised.

“I’m not surprised,” Harry says, and Louis rolls his eyes. “You were pretty wasted.”

“We can’t all be vampires with high tolerance, asshole,” Louis huffs, reaching forward to snatch the syrup out of Harry’s hand. Harry evades him, however, and holds the syrup up in the air behind him, out of Louis’ reach. Louis considers kneeing Harry in the balls to get him to take a step back so Louis can jump off the counter, but he figures that probably wouldn’t end with anything more than Louis breaking his kneecap.

“Don’t be rude,” Harry scolds as Louis reaches for the syrup again. 

Louis’ eyes fall down to Harry’s chest again, and it’s like a light bulb goes off in his brain.

“Sorry,” he says, voice turning sweet. Louis reaches forward and puts his hands on Harry’s bare shoulders before letting them move slowly down his chest. Harry’s skin is just soft as Louis remembers it being, and it’s slightly distracting, but he tries not to lose his concentration. “I really appreciate you welcoming me into your apartment even though I have literally no recollection of getting here. And I’d love for you to give me the syrup now, if you could.” 

Louis blinks a bit more quickly than he would normally, knowing that the fluttering of his eyelashes would catch the attention of any man or vampire. Harry’s still holding the syrup away from Louis, but his eyes are glued to Louis’ face. He looks slightly amused, which really isn’t what Louis is going for, so Louis decides to take things a step further.

“I’d really love to eat that breakfast you made me now,” Louis says timidly, nothing like how he normally speaks. He leans forward as he talks, one hand still resting against Harry’s chest, the other moving back up to grip his shoulder. Louis leans forward and maintains eye contact with Harry while he does so, eyes only slipping down once when Harry licks his lips. Perfect. That’s exactly what Louis is looking for.

Their faces are close together now, and it would be incredibly easy to close the distance, but Louis isn’t actually interested in Harry. He’s just interested in Harry’s syrup and pancakes. Obviously.

“You have a pillow crease on your cheek,” Harry says, voice quiet. He lowers the hand holding the syrup, keeping it behind his back, and moves his other hand to Louis’ face, thumbing gently over the skin of Louis’ cheekbone.

Louis can’t help the way his eyes fall closed at the contact.

When he opens his eyes again, Harry’s hand is still on his face, and his face is even closer to Louis’ than it was before. Harry licks his lips again, and Louis watches them, instinctively licking his own in response. Then Louis sees Harry smile slightly open-mouthed, and his fangs descend. That’s when Louis loses his breath for a moment.

Harry moves his finger over Louis’ cheek gently again and hums, a considering noise. He leans forward then, but not to kiss Louis — instead, he’s leaning in toward the side of Louis’ face, likely moving down toward his neck, and Louis can’t bring himself to tell Harry to stop when he wants it so fucking badly. Instead, he closes his eyes again and digs his nails into Harry’s skin, unable to help himself.

“I need to go brush my teeth,” Harry says quietly into Louis’ ear, and Louis’ eyes fly open.

Harry takes a step back and places the syrup on the counter beside Louis’ body.

“What?” Louis asks, though he heard Harry perfectly clearly. 

“Gotta keep these babies clean,” Harry says with a jovial smile, pointing at his fangs. 

With that, he turns around and walks toward the opening to the hallway. Louis stares at his back muscles for half a second before he forces himself to look away.

“By the way, Lou,” Harry says just before disappearing into the hallway. “The bacon on that plate is probably still really hot. You might want to give it a few minutes to uh, cool down. Y’know what I mean?” 

Louis sees the flash of his dimple, and then Harry’s gone, leaving Louis alone with a half hard dick and a bottle of syrup. 

When Louis touches the bacon to check whether it really does need time to cool down, he finds that it’s the perfect temperature.

And when Louis returns to his own apartment after finishing breakfast at Harry’s, he screams into a pillow until his voice is hoarse.

 

\--

 

“Jade, if you throw paint on Aiden one more time, I’m going to give you detention for a week. That’s a promise,” Louis calls across the stage just as another several droplets splatter across Aiden’s pants. Thank god Aiden actually remembered to bring an old outfit that could be ruined today rather than settling for his gym clothes like he had the day before. Aiden had assured Louis his mom wouldn’t mind if they were ruined, but Louis would prefer to not take his chances with angry parents.

He can see Jade roll her eyes at him from twenty feet away. Louis takes a deep breath and counts to ten before closing the distance between him and the students who are supposed to be painting the prop car.

“Yes, Mr. Tomlinson?” Jade says when he reaches them. Her voice is deceivingly innocent.

“Jade, can you please explain why more paint is landing on our very own Danny Zuko’s face than is landing on the car that he’ll be fake driving across the stage come May?” Louis digs his fingernails into his palms in an attempt to distract himself enough that he won’t just start yelling like a madman.

“Well,” Jade says, moving her paintbrush is gentle stroking motions across the side of the cardboard car. “I guess my hand just slipped or something. I can’t be sure.”

Inhale and exhale, Louis tells himself. Just breathe, count to ten, and everything will be fine.

“Well, that’s unfortunate, Jade. It would be equally unfortunate if my hand slipped and accidentally wrote your name on a detention slip,” Louis says, offering her a smile that possibly looks a bit maniacal. 

“Won’t happen again, Mr. Tomlinson,” Jade says sweetly, not bothering to look up from the easy strokes she’s still making on the cardboard. 

Louis takes another deep breath to calm himself and turns to walk away. He has some costume measurements to double check in the prop room, so he just doesn’t have the time or patience to supervise Jade and Aiden's work. 

Louis is about halfway across the stage when he hears a pathetic attempt at a whisper from Jade.

“He’s such a grump, god,” Jade says. “What crawled up his ass and died in the last few weeks?”

Louis pauses to listen and feels his eyes narrow when he hears Aiden giggle.

“Pretty sure the issue is that nothing has been up his ass,” Aiden says. “Remember when he had those bite marks on his neck a while back? He was in a great mood all week after that, and now that he hasn’t had them in a while, he’s ready to commit murder every day in class.”

“Sexual frustration, of course,” Jade says, snickering.

Louis spins on his heels and puts his hands on his hips again. 

“Jade, Aiden, you both have detention next week. Come to my office tomorrow morning to pick up your slips.”

Louis doesn’t bother to stop and listen to their outraged protests, and he doesn’t end up going back to the prop room either. Instead, he retreats to his office for a few minutes until his face stops burning. He’s honestly offended by Jade and Aiden’s conversation. His high school drama students have absolutely no business speculating about his sex life because that’s completely inappropriate. And even more importantly, Louis is not sexually frustrated. Not one bit.

 

\--

 

When Louis assigns four more detentions by the time the week ends, he decides that while he is definitely not sexually frustrated, he could probably afford to relieve some tension through healthy means. 

Louis texts Niall, Liam, Zayn, Harry, Gigi, and Cheryl and asks them all to meet him on the soccer field after the high school team finishes practice on Friday, and to his pleasant surprise, all but Cheryl are able to make it. They all arrive in athletic shorts and t-shirts, and Louis pretends not to notice that Harry’s shorts are about three inches shorter than any normal person would find respectable. 

“Alright,” Louis says, rubbing his hands together as he eyes the group. “Niall, Zayn, and I are on one team, and Liam, Harry, and Gigi are on the other. Vampires will serve as goalies and you’re forbidden from using super speed to block any balls from getting in the net, got it? We’ll all be watching, and if you two break that rule, the other team gets a point. Everyone understand?” 

Harry and Zayn are quite clearly grumbling under their breath about the rules at a volume too low for the rest of them to hear, and Louis shoots a fierce glare their way. If he didn’t ban use of super speed, there would be no point in playing because Zayn and Harry would block every goal with almost zero effort.

“Go team!” Niall shouts, high fiving Louis and Zayn with a level of enthusiasm that he usually reserves for eating. 

"I look forward to my team kicking your asses,” Harry says with a haughty smile before turning around and jogging at a normal speed to his goal post, and Louis gives his retreating figure a look of disdain.

“He looks like he wants to do something to your ass, that’s for sure,” Gigi whispers, leaning in close to Louis.

“Ugh,” Louis says, shoving her away from him as she cackles. “I hate you.” 

Louis quickly glances over toward Harry’s goal post to see if he overheard Gigi’s comment. Harry’s busy adjusting his hair behind a headband, but as soon as he deems it presentable, he looks straight at Louis and winks. 

Louis swallows hard and starts running.

 

\--

 

The game goes well for a while, though the sky looks as though it might open up into a torrential downpour at any moment, and Louis congratulates himself on putting together two evenly matched teams. Zayn is a lazy goalie, especially when he isn’t permitted to use super speed, but Liam misses the goal post almost every time he tries to score, so it ends up working out quite well. Louis, of course, is killing the competition. It’s annoying that Gigi is on his every move considering her legs are longer than his and that’s clearly an advantage, but Louis is fast for his size and he’s able to duck around her when necessary.

The teams are tied 2-2 when it starts raining. It’s just a light rain at first, but as it begins to pick up, Louis knows their time on the playing field is numbered. That’s why he takes the opportunity when he sees it. He makes his way toward the goal with the ball, dodging Gigi’s giraffe legs when she tries to steal the ball away and laughing when she trips over her own feet. Liam is trying to catch up, but he’s too far away. 

Louis is about fifteen feet away from the goal when he takes aim for the left corner of the goal, confident that Harry will assume he’s going to the right instead. He’s right, of course, and Harry goes to block the ball where it isn’t headed, and Louis can see the look on his face when he realizes that he’s not going to be able to stop the goal.

Louis fist pumps and turns to cheer in Niall and Zayn’s direction before the ball even hits the net, but then he hears Harry’s voice ring out. 

“Blocked,” he says, and Louis’ head turns so quickly that he almost cricks his neck.

“No way,” he says, but Harry has the ball on his hands and is smacking his gum obnoxiously.

Harry raises his eyebrows and lets his smile grow at the look of total disbelief on Louis’ face.

“You cheated!” Louis yells, stalking over toward Harry with fire running through his veins. “There is no fucking way that you could have blocked that shot without using super speed. We still get that point.”

“Oh, here we go,” Louis hears Niall mutter, and more distantly, he hears Gigi and Zayn laughing together. Louis wants to yell at Zayn for fraternizing with the enemy, but right now, his priority is dragging this cheating excuse for a vampire.

“Did you actually see me use super speed?” Harry asks, one eyebrow raised. His fucking dimples are out, that bastard.

“I didn’t have to see it, you asshole! I was watching you a split second before you should have missed blocking that goal. I’ve played soccer since I was about 6 years old, pal, and I know how this game works, not to mention that the look on your stupid face made it obvious. You knew you were going to miss it. There’s no way in hell you would have been able to stop that from where you were standing. No fucking way.” 

Harry shrugs and smacks his gum some more.

“Zayn,” Louis says desperately, turning back toward his goalie. “You saw that, right? He cheated!”

Zayn wraps his arm around Gigi’s waist and laughs. “Sorry, bro, but I’m not getting involved in this mating ritual. You’re on your own.” And with that, he and Gigi start walking off the field, closely followed by Liam and Niall.

“Next time, you’re not invited,” Louis says. He yanks the ball out of Harry’s grip angrily and tosses it into the net for the girl’s soccer team to retrieve tomorrow. 

“Aw, Lou,” Harry says, reaching forward and wrapping his arm around Louis. “Don’t be such a poor sport.”

“No,” Louis groans, trying to duck his way out of Harry’s grip, but Harry’s definitely using his vampire strength now, so Louis relents, letting Harry hug him and even going so far as to wrap his arms around Harry’s shoulders. It feels good and right to be in Harry’s arms, and Louis would love to stand there all night, but he forces himself to pull back.

“Ready to go?” He asks, and Harry nods, taking up stride next to Louis.

The rain is coming down heavily now and the patches of dirt on the edge of the field from where sidelined students wore the grass away have already muddied, just as Louis anticipated. Harry is looking down, about to step over one of those puddles, when Louis sticks his foot out and trips him.

For a vampire, Harry is still quite clumsy sometimes, so he goes down. He goes down _hard._

Louis takes in the sight of Harry on the ground, knees and shorts covered in mud, wet hair stuck to his forehead, hands also covered in mud from where he put them out to try and stop his fall. He can’t help the laugh that startles out of him at the sight, and it only gets worse when Harry looks up at him with narrowed eyes.

When Louis finally catches his breath, he reaches out a hand to pull the vampire up. It’s too nice of him, really, after Harry cheated and then acted so smug about it, but Louis is a nice guy. Too nice to anticipate that Harry will pull him down into the mud after him, apparently, which is why Louis’ mouth opens in shock when he feels his body falling. He can’t stop himself, and instead goes tumbling down in a pile of limbs on top of Harry, knee hitting Harry in the groin and making him grunt in pain, hands pressed into the mud on either side of Harry’s body. 

“Goddammit,” Louis says, brain quickly registering their compromising position. He doesn’t have long to worry about it, however, as Harry quickly rolls them over and pins Louis down in the mud with his hands on both wrists, hips pressing down into Louis’. Louis groans at his weight and wiggles around in a weak attempt to free himself, but he knows there’s no use. A human is no match for a vampire under these circumstances.

“Let me up,” Louis demands, feeling petulant and grumpy. He can barely see from the rain in his eyes and he can feel the mud soaking into the back of his shirt uncomfortably. 

Harry gives him a charming smile and doesn’t move an inch.

Louis thrashes around under Harry’s body as much as he can, and he smiles when he sees Harry bite down hard on his lip in response to the movement. Harry tightens his grip on Louis’ wrists just the tiniest bit, and the smile drops off Louis’ face just as quickly as it had Harry’s.

“Harry,” Louis says finally, giving up. “I’m cold.”

Harry frowns.

“Sorry, Lou,” he says, voice genuinely apologetic. He gets off Louis and lets Louis get to his feet himself, correctly assuming that Louis wouldn’t trust Harry reaching out his hands after Louis just pulled the same trick on him. 

They stand there for a moment, the rain coming down around them, hair wet and clothes muddy, without saying anything. Harry looks like a total mess, but Louis can’t help the flutter in his tummy he gets from even just looking at him.

“I can’t get in a taxi like this,” Harry says finally, gesturing down his muddy clothes, and Louis sighs.

“My place is within walking distance if you want to come over to shower and get a change of clothes,” he says, doing his best to sound put out. Harry simply gives him a dazzling smile in return before making an “after you” gesture to Louis.

Louis huffs and starts walking briskly away without warning, but Harry quickly matches his stride thanks to his dumb long legs. The rain is still coming down in droves, sending a chill down Louis’ spine, and his sneakers and socks are completely soaked through with water and mud. He feels like his toes are pruning inside his shoes, so they’ve only walked about half a block from the field before Louis hops on Harry’s back, expecting a piggyback ride the last two blocks to his and Niall’s apartment building. 

Harry indulges him, of course, as he should. He tries to complain about Louis getting mud all over his back, but Louis shuts him up by pointing out that there was a lot of mud on his back to begin with. If anything, most of the mud from Harry’s back is going to smear off on Louis when he hops off, so he’s basically doing Harry a favor.

They reach the building in record time, and Louis hops off Harry’s back in the elevator in an attempt to reduce the glare he’s receiving from a middle-aged woman. Harry isn’t subtle about the fact that he’s holding back laughter, and the elevator doors have barely closed behind the woman when she gets off on the third floor before he’s giggling. 

“Respect your elders,” Louis orders, but Harry just raises one eyebrow at him.

“I hate to break it to you, but she’s not my elder,” Harry says, and Louis’ face flames in embarrassment.

He can still feel the slight rosiness to his cheeks when he unlocks his apartment and lets them inside, immediately recognizing that Niall must have headed somewhere with the other boys instead of home. 

When Louis flicks the light switch on, Harry glances at the wall beside the door, and Louis feels his face heat up again. Of course he would remember the last time he was here and what they did then.

“Your cheeks are flushed,” Harry says, sounding very smug. He reaches forward and strokes a finger over Louis’ cheek, and when Louis jerks his face out of Harry’s grasp, feeling far too exposed, Harry’s smile softens into something more akin to fondness.

Louis straightens out his shoulders and looks Harry in the eye, feeling embarrassed by how quickly Harry manages to turn him into a blushing schoolgirl. 

“Uh, you remember where the bathroom is, I assume,” he says, and Harry nods. “There are clean towels on the shelf in there, so help yourself.”

Harry takes a second to pull off his muddy sneakers and place them neatly on the welcome matt to avoid dirtying the hardwood floors. Then he vanishes off to the bathroom, and Louis takes a moment to collect himself.

Once his breathing has evened out, Louis takes his own sneakers off, immediately followed by his soaking wet socks. He gathers them up and walks them over to the hall closet that holds the washer and dryer, placing them there to be cleaned later. He’s just about to go to his bedroom to find a clean pair of clothes that will fit Harry’s giraffe limbs when he hears the front door open, signaling Niall’s return.

“Nialler?” Louis asks, though he already knows it’s him.

“Yes, it is I,” Niall says with a small bow when Louis reenters the living room. He’s clutching a Starbucks cup in his hand, and Louis immediately gives him a dirty look for going to get coffee without getting some for Louis as well. Niall sees his glare and takes another sip, looking entirely unbothered. Louis really needs new friends.

“Is Harry here?” Niall asks, frown on his face. They can hear the faint sound of the shower running from where they’re standing. 

Louis nods. 

“Yeah,” he says. “We got a bit muddy, so Harry came over to shower and get a change of clothes.” 

Niall waggles his eyebrows, so Louis reaches out to shove him, making sure to smear some mud on his shirt.

“As you can tell, he’s in there showering alone, but fuck you for the implication.”

Louis turns, intending to return to his mission of finding clothes for Harry, but Niall’s voice stops him.

“There are no towels in there, you know,” he says, voice amused. Louis stops in his track.

“What?” He asks. There are always at least three spare towels sitting on a shelf above the toilet for when guests come over, so Louis really isn’t sure what Niall is talking about. 

“They were getting dusty, so I washed them,” Niall explains, shrugging and taking another sip of his coffee. “Your family hasn’t visited in a little while and it’s not like anyone else ever uses them. I usually go to girls’ places and you haven’t been laid in seven and a half years, aside from that time you slept with the vampire who’s currently butt naked in our bathroom.”

Louis takes a slow breath in through his nose, and out through his mouth.

“Sometimes I wonder if you were sent to this Earth to make my life difficult,” Louis says, and Niall gives him a big smile. 

Louis just gives him a glare in response before returning to the hallway. Thankfully, the towels are sitting in the dryer, all ready to be used, so Louis just has to slip into the bathroom and leave one on the counter beside the sink. In and out while Harry is still in the shower, singing, from what Louis can hear, and he won’t even notice.

The lock on their bathroom door is broken, so Louis just turns the handle slowly, doing everything in his power to avoid making any noise. The shower curtain is pulled all the way closed, thankfully, so Louis slips in the door quickly and places the towel on the counter.

He turns and grabs the handle again to exit when he hears the telltale sound of the shower curtain rings sliding across the rod, and Louis doesn’t even have time to flinch before Harry is spinning him around.

“You startled me,” Harry says, and Louis gulps.

Harry is standing three inches in front of him, dripping wet and fully naked, and he’s completely shameless about it. 

_Don’t look down,_ Louis thinks to himself. _Whatever you do, maintain eye contact, and don’t fucking look down._

He looks down. Can’t help himself, really, with the droplets of water following the route down Harry’s body that Louis’ eyes are so desperate to take. He hasn’t seen Harry naked in ages, not since the night they don’t speak of anymore, and Louis can’t pretend he doesn’t enjoy the reminder that Harry is both a grower and a shower.

Louis doesn’t look down for more than a second or two, but Harry’s face has an unbelievably arrogant smirk in place when his eyes return to Harry’s face. He looks smug and unsurprised by Louis’ presence, and there’s no way in hell Harry didn’t know that it was Louis placing a towel on the counter when he chose to super speed himself out of the shower completely naked just to confront him.

“Smaller than I remember,” Louis says, swallowing hard. Harry’s smirk only widens.

“Whatever you say, Lou,” Harry says, and Louis gets the hell out of that bathroom before the expression on his face or the bulge in his soccer shorts has the chance to show Harry just how right he is.

He has the feeling Harry knows, anyway.

 

\--

 

A few days later, Louis goes out to dinner with his friends and ends up sitting next to Harry. Louis isn’t sure whether it’s because of the overload of sexual tension that he’s been experiencing with Harry lately or if he just snaps in general, but all of a sudden, Louis finds himself all over Harry. He can’t even help himself. 

When an errant curl falls into Harry’s face, Louis brushes it away. When Harry talks to Liam on his other side and Louis wants to get his attention, he touches Harry on the arm. When Harry asks if he can try a piece of Louis’ chicken, Louis uses his own fork to feed Harry. When Louis comes back from the restroom and goes to sit down, he puts his hand on Harry’s thigh to steady himself. 

Harry is becoming increasingly bewildered by Louis’ behavior as the night goes on, and Zayn keeps looking like he’s ready to burst out laughing. Louis knows he needs to rein himself in, but for the past couple of weeks, Harry has been on his mind near constantly. There’s been a series of incidents, including the gym fiasco and the morning when Louis was hungover in Harry's kitchen, and Louis thinks he may have given something away the night he was wasted, though Harry won’t say anything about it. Regardless, reining it in at this point isn’t an option. Louis needs to fuck Harry out of his system. 

When dinner is over and everyone goes their separate ways, Louis thanks his lucky stars that Niall had plans already tonight because that means he has the apartment to himself.

Louis waits until Harry has his phone out and the Uber app open before he sidles up next to him.

“Can I come over for a drink?” Louis asks, and Harry looks at him, surprised. "I don't really want to go home yet."

“Uh, sure,” Harry says, frowning slightly. Louis points in the direction of his Uber, which he’d requested before they even exited the restaurant, and Harry shrugs before following him to the car.

They don’t speak to each other at all during the drive, both opting to look out the window and occasionally answer the random questions that their driver asks. When they get back to Harry’s place and make it up to his apartment, Harry leads Louis into his kitchen.

“Beer? Wine?” Harry asks, glancing inside his fridge. “I think I might have hard cider in here too, actually.”

“Just beer is fine,” Louis says. He comes up behind Harry to look inside his fridge, and when he sees how overly organized is, he laughs out loud.

"You should come over and clean mine and Niall's fridge sometime," Louis says, and Harry smiles at that.

“I really should, actually. I’m surprised you and Niall aren’t constantly sick with some kind of disease,” Harry says, and Louis pinches him on the arm to get him to shut up.

When he and Harry both have a bottle of beer in their hand, they move out to the living room and sit down on the couch, sinking back and relaxing while they drink. Harry tells Louis a little bit about the victim who was kidnapped the previous weekend, as he had a long conversation with her parents and brothers yesterday. Louis can tell it makes him feel better to talk about it a little bit, so he just sits there and listens. 

Louis tells Harry about all the progress the kids are making on the play, as they’ve all memorized their lines by now and the set is finally starting to resemble something more than a bunch of scattered pieces of cardboard with paint slapped over them. They still have a long way to go, but the progress is obvious, and Louis is beyond pleased with his student’s hard work and progress.

Harry listens to him talk about his students with the same smile that he always seems to develop when Louis gets passionate about his job, and it warms Louis from the inside out. Louis rarely finds someone who cares about his job outside of his immediate family and other teachers, but Harry hangs on his every word. 

That’s probably what pushes Louis over the edge, funnily enough. One more nice thing that Harry has done after a long list of nice things, and after weeks of denial, Louis decides that this is it.

“So, I was thinking that we should have sex,” Louis says suddenly, and Harry chokes on his drink.

“What?” He asks, looking at Louis as though he just grew a third eyeball on his face.

“Neither of has gotten laid in a while, right?” Louis asks. Harry doesn’t answer, but Louis knows the answer is yes. “And we’re friends, of course, totally platonic and not interested in each other at all, but we’ve had sex before. So it could be like, a favor to each other. Since we’re friends.”

Harry stares at him with complete and utter shock. 

“This is a great idea,” Louis says, just as Harry says, “This is a terrible idea.” 

For a moment, they just look at each other, but Louis isn’t going to budge on this subject. He thinks it should happen, and if Harry doesn’t want it to, then of course Louis will respect that, but if Harry’s interested, well. They can fuck the sexual frustration out of their systems, and Louis can fuck his desire for Harry out of his system, and all will be right with the world once more.

“I’m going to put my empty bottle in the kitchen,” Louis says. “And while I’m in there, you’re gonna decide whether or not we’re doing this, alright?” 

Harry swallows hard and nods, and it’s nice to see him slightly unsure for a change, so Louis has to bite back a smirk. He exaggerates the movement of his hips on his walk to the kitchen, hoping that even if Harry is still straddling the line between the decision to do it or not do it, Louis’ hips and ass will sway him.

Louis has just put his glass down on the kitchen counter when he feels himself being spun around. Harry kisses the laughter out of his mouth and immediately pushes him against the wall. Louis grabs desperately for Harry, his hands moving over Harry’s chest and stomach before moving to feel his broad shoulders, and he must be driving Harry crazy with all the touching because the next thing he knows, Harry is grabbing both his wrists with one hand, just as he did when they were laying in the mud.

“Fuck,” Louis says, pushing his hips forward into Harry’s.

“Do you like when I do that?” Harry asks, voice smug, and the answer is obvious, but Louis nods anyway. Harry hums and then leads Louis out to the living room, taking a small detour on the way to the couch to fish around in his jacket pocket where it’s hung up by the door.

“What’re you...” Louis begins his question, but trails off when he sees what Harry pulled out.

Handcuffs.

“If you’re interested,” Harry says, holding the cuffs on one end so they dangle, rocking back and forth like a pendulum. “If this freaks you out or something, don’t hesitate to say no, I just thought that maybe—“

Louis cuts him off, surging up onto his toes to kiss Harry before tugging him over to the couch, handcuffs still in hand. Louis pushes Harry down onto the couch and pulls his shirt over his head before shucking off his jeans and underwear, and when Harry reaches out to try to help, he shoves his hands away. 

“You’ll be doing most the work when my wrists are constrained,” Louis says, throwing himself down on Harry’s lap to begin undoing the buttons of his Hawaiian shirt. Harry interrupts the undressing process by pulling Louis into him and kissing him over and over, apparently unable to resist Louis’ mouth.

It hasn’t been that long since the last time they did this, but it’s been long enough for some of the sensory memories to have dulled, even as Louis has played the mental images on repeat over and over and over. Getting to do it again feels like getting lucky enough to experience an extremely vivid dream a second time, and Louis is going to try to memorize every detail.

When they’re finally undressed, Harry uses his vampire speed to rush to his bedroom or wherever it is that he keeps lube and condoms, and Louis is once again reminded of the benefits of having sex with a vampire. 

When Harry returns to the living room, Louis takes the lube from him and seats himself on Harry’s lap. Harry continues moving in to kiss him, falling on his mouth every few seconds, but eventually Louis puts his hands on Harry’s chest to hold him back so he can get to work. 

He squeezes lube onto two fingers and opens himself up as quickly as he can, enjoying the look of frustration on Harry’s face over the fact that he can’t really see what Louis is doing.

“Let me do that,” Harry begs, but Louis just shakes his head and adds a third finger. It's probably too soon for that, but Louis enjoys the burn of it, and he's far too desperate at this point to bother taking his time.

It’s not as good as when Harry opened him up with his fingers and tongue that night, but it gets the job done. Louis just doesn’t care about this part today — he just wants Harry inside him as soon as possible. It’s also more than a little fun to torture Harry after Harry’s tortured him for weeks. 

When Louis is prepped enough, he leans in to kiss Harry and reaches blindly onto the couch cushion for the condom, pressing it into Harry’s hand as soon as he finds it. Harry doesn’t need further instruction. He stops kissing Louis just long enough to focus on pulling the condom down over his cock and lubing himself up. 

“Still want to use these?” Harry asks, picking up the handcuffs from where they’re draped over the arm of the couch. Louis nods.

Harry is incredibly gentle with his wrists, taking them in his hands like they’re something to be treasured, and for some reason, that only makes Louis harder. Louis knows his wrists will probably end up chaffed from the silver metal of the vampire cuffs, but it’ll be worth it. 

"Is this legal?" Louis asks when Harry is finished securing them and has placed the key on the couch beside them. Harry snorts before leaning in to give Louis another quick peck on the lips.

"Do you care either way?" He asks.

Louis considers for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope," he says.

Harry laughs loudly and leans in again, kissing Louis on the nose. The gesture is far too domestic and affectionate for what they’re doing here, but Louis doesn't have much time think about it because Harry chooses that moment to line himself up, and all of a sudden, Louis’ focus changes to lowering himself down on Harry’s cock.

Louis sits down on Harry’s cock slowly, only able to rely on his leg muscles, and when he’s fully seated, Harry clutches at his hips tightly and gives him a moment to take a few deep breaths and adjust to the feeling of being full again.

“Y’alright?” Harry asks after a moment of them breathing together silently. 

“Yeah,” Louis says, his voice embarrassingly wrecked already. “Just go.” 

Harry doesn’t hesitate, instead immediately helping Louis lift up and then helping lower him back down again, over and over until Louis can’t help but cry out. His thighs are burning from the effort of lifting himself, so he allows Harry to take over entirely, who chooses to thrust his hips up while also using his hands on Louis' hips to guide him back down onto his cock.

It both overwhelms Louis and leaves him wanting more, and he's going wild with it. He keeps trying to move his hands, desperate to touch himself or Harry or do _something_ , but his wrists remain in the cuffs. 

Harry offers to take them off twice, showing concern for Louis' wrists even while fucking him to death, but Louis shakes his head both times. He enjoys the feeling of being restrained like this, even as he starts helping Harry again, lifting and lowering himself using only his thighs and Harry's steady and strong hands on his hips. It’s like Harry’s fucking him while he fucks himself using Harry’s cock, and Louis fucking loves it, can’t get enough of it. Harry can’t seem to either.

Louis is on the brink of coming when Harry sees the plea written all over his face and bites him, no prompting necessary. Louis moans as soon as Harry’s fangs make contact with his skin, and when Harry moves one of his hands to jerk Louis off, the mix of sensations is more than enough. 

Harry is inside him and under him and touching him and biting him, and Louis is so overwhelmed by how good it is that he can’t hold back for even another few seconds.

Harry doesn’t stop drinking until Louis' come is splattered across their stomachs, and he’s still drinking when he comes himself several thrusts later. When Harry finally pulls off Louis' neck and pulls back, his eyes are wide and his lips are wet with blood, and Louis has never wanted anything or anyone more in his entire life.

“Fuck,” Louis says finally, and Harry shakes his head, laughing a little bit like he can’t believe what they just did.

"God," Harry says, sounding breathless. He rests his head on Louis' shoulder and exhales, and Louis shivers, his body still completely overwhelmed.

"Sorry," Harry says suddenly, apparently realizing that Louis' hands are still cuffed behind his back. Louis had forgotten too, but that’s probably because his arms are almost numb at this point. Harry lifts Louis off him slowly, making them both gasp from oversensitivity, and then he grabs the key from where it's fallen between the cushions.

When his wrists are free, Louis wiggles his arms, wrists, and hands around a bit to get the blood flowing again, and Harry rubs over the chafe marks soothingly with a touch so gentle that it makes Louis’ heart ache a little. The marks aren’t too bad, all things considered, and Louis assumes they’ll fade within a few days.

"Okay?" Harry asks, and Louis nods, knowing that there aren’t enough words in the English language to express how much better than fine he is at the moment.

Louis leans in to kiss Harry one last time and tells himself that it really is the last time. They fucked each other out of their system, and now Louis can move forward without thinking about Harry every second of every day, and their friendship can move forward, and everything will be fine.


	6. Chapter Six

Louis wakes up in the morning with an ache at the base of his spine and his skin tacky with leftover lube, sweat, and come. Harry is sleeping beside him on his back, half leaning up against the headboard, and it looks as though he laid down next to Louis with the intentions of getting up soon afterwards, but accidentally fell into a genuine deep sleep. It’s rare that vampires sleep as deeply as Harry does, and something about that makes Louis smile.

It’s easy to study Harry’s face when his eyes are closed and he has less awareness of his surroundings, and it’s a rare enough occurrence that Louis takes the opportunity to drink it all in — the mess of curls atop his head, the naturally pinked skin of his lips, the slightly enlarged pores on either side of his nose, and the brown well-groomed brows that Harry frequently raises or furrows according to his mood and level of teasing. 

He’s as gorgeous as ever, and it kills Louis to pull his gaze away, but he does anyway.

Louis gently pushes himself out of the bed and pads to the bathroom, closing the door behind him as quietly as he possibly can. Harry’s shower is huge and overwhelming, and it takes him a few minutes of fiddling with the knobs before he gets it to the right temperature, but once he steps inside, he breathes a sigh of relief at how lovely the stream of hot water feels on his sore muscles. 

Louis washes his hair and body thoroughly, and as much as Louis enjoyed last night’s activities, he happily scrubs the flaked come and tacky lube off his skin with fruity fragranced body wash and shampoo. By the time he steps out of the shower fifteen minutes later, he feels clean, refreshed, and ready for the day.

There’s a stack of thick white towels on a built-in shelf outside the shower, so Louis grabs one and towels himself off to a respectable level of damp before wrapping it around his waist and poking his head back out the door into Harry’s bedroom. Louis isn’t surprised at all to see that Harry’s bed has been abandoned, with the only evidence of Harry’s presence being the messy sheets on the left side of the bed. 

There’s a folded pair of sweatpants lying there that wasn’t there when Louis entered the bathroom, and Louis takes the invitation for what it is, sliding them on and making a rather unsuccessful attempt at rolling the bottoms so they fit him a bit better.

Harry is turning bacon over in a sizzling pan when Louis makes it out to the kitchen, and Louis stands awkwardly at the entrance to the room for a few seconds before Harry speaks up.

“There’s some bacon and toast on that plate for you already,” Harry says, turning his head and pointing at a plate perched on the kitchen island a few feet away. Louis startles at the sound of his voice slightly before shuffling forward to grab the plate.

“Seems like you slept well,” Harry says, and he sounds far too proud of himself. He gives a significant glance at the marks on Louis’ wrists, which still have the marks from the cuffs visible.

Louis rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his toast.

“It was a mediocre night’s rest,” Louis says, trying very hard to keep his voice neutral. 

Harry doesn’t say anything to that, but Louis can see his smirk before he turns around to start taking the second load of bacon and laying it down on his plate.

“Seems like _you_ slept well,” Louis says pointedly. Harry makes a small noise of agreement and says nothing else.

When Harry finishes loading his own plate, he gestures over toward the couch before starting to make his way over there, and Louis follows without protest, settling down on the two-seater couch beside Harry.

They don’t really talk while they eat, instead just chewing quietly and occasionally stealing food off of each other’s plates. Harry’s bacon is crispier than Louis’, just the way he likes it, and Harry just seems to always like other peoples’ food more than he likes his own, so it works out quite well. The entire situation is bizarrely domestic, but Louis is just grateful that there’s no awkwardness between them after what happened the night before.

When they finish eating, Harry takes his and Louis’ plates to the kitchen and returns with his laptop.

“I’ve got to work on the case, but you can watch Netflix if you want. I have it set up so you can watch on the TV.” 

Louis nods eagerly and grabs the remote off the coffee table, flicking the power button so the screen lights up and then pondering what he wants to watch while he scrolls through Harry’s recommended shows and movies.

“I want to watch the Vampire Diaries,” Louis decides finally. He pushes the button for it to start playing when he looks at Harry, who was watching him scroll through his Netflix library, but didn’t say anything in response to Louis’ choice. Harry’s quite opinionated, so his silence is surprising.

When Louis looks at Harry’s face, he snorts. The vampire’s brows are furrowed and he looks horribly offended.

“I’d like to state for the record that I find this show inaccurate and offensive,” Harry says, and when Louis turns his head, he sees Harry glaring at the characters on the screen as though they’ve personally insulted him.

Louis reaches forward and flicks Harry on the nose, making him flinch in surprise. 

“Don’t be rude,” Louis says, sprawling out across the couch and propping his feet up in Harry’s lap. “I love this episode.”

Harry sighs loudly, sounding put out, but he pinches Louis’ big toe once just to make him twitch, opens up his laptop, and begins working without another word.

 

\--

 

Louis is startled out of sleep by the harsh ringing of his iPhone, which he always keeps charging on his nightstand. For a moment, Louis feels too disoriented to understand what’s happening, and his eyes glance at his alarm clock. It’s nearly 2AM, and Louis has only been asleep for a few hours.

“Hello?” He answers the phone, voice raspy from sleep.

“Louis,” Harry’s voice says, and Louis sits up in bed.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, concern coloring his tone. There’s a tight feeling in his chest that makes him think something bad has happened, and considering Harry's never called this late before, he’s pretty sure his instincts are correct. Louis flicks the light on and throws himself out of bed before Harry even begins talking, eyes scanning the floor for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that he can throw on quickly. 

“Niall’s in the hospital, Louis,” Harry says, and Louis gasps. He's not sure what he expected Harry to say, but it wasn't that. "He’s going to be fine, but I wanted you to know as soon as possible. We’re at George Washington Hospital. If you want to come, just show your license to whoever’s at the desk. I’ll tell them that you’re good to be escorted to Niall’s room.” 

“Okay,” Louis says, and his throat feels tight. “I’ll be there soon.”

Louis calls an Uber to take him to the hospital and ignores the driver when he tries to make small talk, too lost in thought and worried about his friend and roommate to bother being polite. The streets are mostly deserted aside from a few drunken people laughing and falling all over each other as they walk home from the bars, and Louis can’t help but think about how Niall is supposed to be one of them. 

The nurse he talks to in the emergency room tells him that Niall is in room 105. Louis knows he should be rushing to the room, but he feels like he’s in shock or something, and he can’t force his feet to move any faster than a normal pace. _He’s okay,_ Louis reminds himself. _Harry said he’s okay._

When Louis reaches room 105, he sees Zayn and Nick sitting on uncomfortable-looking chairs in the hallway, right beside some scary looking medical equipment that Louis has definitely seen in Grey’s Anatomy. A nurse fusses with the equipment for another few seconds before pushing it down the hallway, and then it’s just the three of them.

“Lou,” Zayn says as soon as he spots him, getting up from his chair and wrapping Louis into a hug. “This is all my fault, fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

Louis squeezes Zayn back tightly, giving Nick a small wave over his shoulder as a greeting, which Nick returns, before pulling back slightly so he can look Zayn in the eye.

“What the fuck happened?” He asks.

Zayn gestures to the chair he had been sitting in and Louis takes a seat.

“Niall and I were at the bar like normal, just hanging out, the two of us since you were too tired, and I stayed by Niall’s side pretty much the whole time. There was one point where he went to go get a drink, but I kept looking over to make sure he was still by the bar, and he came back. He was acting a little odd soon after that, I guess, but he’d drank a lot, so I figured he was just drunk. We were about to leave when I ran to the bathroom really quickly. I should have taken him with me or just waited ‘til I got home, but Lou, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think.”

Zayn sounds like he’s on the brink of tears, so Louis reaches forward to grab his hand and squeeze it quickly.

“It’s okay, bro. This isn’t your fault,” Louis assures him before pulling his hand back. He twiddles his thumbs anxiously on his lap while he waits for Zayn to finish the story. 

“I wasn’t in there more than three minutes, I swear to god, but that’s all it fucking takes with a vampire. I stepped out and Niall wasn’t where I left him. I was pretty sure he was too drunk to just start wandering on his own and I just had a bad fucking feeling, so I went straight out the back door that leads to the alley,” Zayn explains. “And that’s when I saw Niall.”

Louis digs his nails into his palms.

“Whoever took him must’ve run when they heard the door open, but I didn’t bother trying to catch up to them. Niall was in a collapsed heap, just lying on the ground, and he was babbling incoherently. I asked him who had taken him, but he didn’t know, and then he passed out. I called 911 and then Harry. Pretty sure I woke him up, but he and Jeff met us at the hospital. They’re in there talking to Niall now — or trying to, anyway. Whoever took him slipped him something. It must’ve been when he was at the bar, and if I had just been paying closer attention, maybe—”

Louis cuts Zayn off. “Z, stop beating yourself up. You couldn’t have known that leaving him alone for a minute or two would end up like this, alright? You did everything you could and Niall is safe, so that’s what matters.”

Louis sounds a lot more calm than he feels, and his mind feels like it’s racing a mile a minute, but he knows what he’s saying to Zayn is true. The vampire who is kidnapping people from bars throughout the city is the one who is responsible for what happened to Niall — nobody else.

Zayn just shakes his head sadly, and Louis knows that words won’t get through to him right now. He needs some time to beat himself up before he’ll be willing to listen to reason.

Louis directs his attention to Nick, who is still sitting quietly in the other chair.

“Did you show up with Jeff and Harry?” Louis asks.

Nick shakes his head. “I was at the same bar Niall and Zayn were at, actually. I heard some commotion about how an ambulance had been called and I ran out to see what was happening. Niall was a mess, barely conscious by the time I saw him, and Zayn wasn’t much better.” Nick glances over at Zayn, who is pacing the hallway and muttering to himself under his breath, frown etched on his face.

Louis sighs.

“Well, thanks for coming over with Zayn,” he says, and Nick gives him an awkward pat on the shoulder.

“No problem,” he says. 

They sit in the hallways silently for another ten minutes or so before the door to Niall’s room opens. Louis glances anxiously behind them through the open door, hoping to catch a glimpse of his friend, but Jeff shakes his head.

“He’s asleep,” Jeff says, and Louis sighs. He knows Niall probably needs his rest to recover from whatever that bastard gave him, but Louis is desperate to talk to him and make sure he’s really okay. 

Since he can’t do that, he reaches for Harry. Harry opens his arms to Louis immediately, burying his face into Louis’ neck, and Louis shivers slightly, rubbing at Harry’s back and moving his own head inwards to inhale the subtle sweetness of Harry’s shampoo. They just stand there for a moment, hugging and breathing each other in, before Harry pulls back.

“He’s going to be fine, Lou,” Harry says, hands gripping Louis’ shoulders firmly as he speaks, and Louis nods. 

“When will the drug they gave him wear off?” Louis asks.

Harry shrugs. “They said within the next few hours, probably. The name of it is too long for me to try and pronounce right now, but it’s not anything serious. It’s just meant to sedate someone for several hours — long enough for the victims to be transported, I presume. At least we know what the drug is now, I guess, but fuck. I’m so sorry that this happened to Niall,” Harry says. He sounds so defeated, and Louis can’t help but reach forward to hug him again.

When they finally separate, Jeff, Nick, and Zayn have wandered off, likely to find a vending machine that provides blood substitutes for them to sip on while they wait for Niall to wake up. 

Louis touches the dark circles under Harry’s eyes gently, and Harry looks at him. The whites of his eyes are bloodshot and his hair is a mess, and Louis wants nothing more than to tuck him into bed.

“I’ve never seen a vampire look as exhausted as you look,” Louis says. “And that includes all the vampires who hate sleeping.” 

Harry rolls his eyes, but his dimple is showing, so he’s not actually annoyed.

“This case is rough,” he says by way of explanation, shrugging.

Louis nods. “I know it is, Harry, but you need to take care of yourself.”

Harry is about to respond when another nurse approaches, giving them both a sweet smile. She opens the door to Niall’s room and pokes her head inside before walking in.

“Hello, Mr. Horan,” she says, and Louis peeks around Harry’s back to see inside the room now that she’s entered. Niall must be awake if she’s speaking to him, and sure enough, he can see Niall sprawled on the bed inside, eyes half lidded, but open. Louis experiences an overwhelming feeling of relief that settles the gross feeling in his stomach and loosens the tightness in his chest. Everyone said Niall would be okay, but Louis needed to see it for himself.

The nurse is fussing with Niall’s IV, but she doesn’t seem to be doing anything that requires privacy, door open wide and curtains not drawn, so Louis takes his chances and steps into the room.

“Louis!” Niall says, voice weak but enthusiastic.

“Hey, Neil,” Louis says, coming to stand by his bed and reaching out to squeeze his hand. “How’re you feeling?”

Niall shakes his head and winces. “I’m fucking out of it, man,” he says, sounding frustrated. “I don’t know what happened. I remember going to the bar to get another drink, and the bartender had to go over to the other side of the bar to make it because that’s where all the limes were. I know she turned her back for a second, and I’m guessing someone sitting at the bar slipped something into the drink while it was sitting there, but there were so many people over on that end and it was so dark. The last thing I really remember is walking back to Zayn.” 

Niall sighs heavily. “After that, everything’s a blur until I woke up here.” 

The nurse, who Louis has realized is likely adjusting the levels of fluids Niall is receiving, finishes up her task and gives them all a kind smile before she exits. Niall barely pays attention, as his eyes starting to slip closed again.

Louis squeezes his hand again. “All that matters is that you’re here and you’re okay,” he says, and Niall makes a sleepy noise of agreement before his eyes slip closed completely. 

Louis reaches out to brush the hair off of Niall’s face before stepping back. When he turns around, Harry is hovering in the doorway, watching Louis and Niall with a look of guilt and sympathy on his face. 

Louis walks forward and grabs Harry’s hand, pulling him out of the room. Jeff, Nick, and Zayn have returned from getting their snack and are all sitting or standing outside the door to Niall’s room, so Louis takes the opportunity to address Jeff.

“Is Harry needed for anything else tonight?” He asks, still holding Harry’s hand. 

Jeff’s eyes widen and he glances from Louis’ face, to Harry’s face, and back again. 

“Uh, no, I guess not,” he says awkwardly. “I can file the report when I get back to the station. Harry was off duty anyway, so he doesn’t need to stick around any longer if he doesn’t want to.” 

“Alright then,” Louis says. “Zayn, are you going to stay?” 

Zayn nods. “Yeah, I’m going to stay until he’s released and bring him home. It’s my fault he’s here in the first place,” Zayn says, ignoring Louis’ glare at that extremely false statement. “The doctor who was here a little while ago said he’ll probably be fine to leave by late afternoon, and I don’t have anything to do today, so I’ll be here.”

Louis nods and gives Zayn another hug, says his goodbyes to Nick and Jeff, and practically drags Harry down the hallway and out the front entrance to the emergency room. Harry doesn’t protest or try to resist, despite the fact that he could plant his feet and stop Louis from moving him a single millimeter, and Louis takes that as a good sign.

When they get outside, it’s past 3AM, and Harry leads Louis to his police car without saying anything. 

“Need me to bring you home?” He asks as though Louis isn’t already getting into the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Nah,” Louis says, buckling his seatbelt. “We’re both going to go to my apartment and cuddle until you cheer up a bit, and then we’re going to sleep all day, alright? You’re working a night shift tomorrow night, right?” 

Harry nods and turns his key in the ignition. “Yes, but I really should go to my own place.”

“Perfect,” Louis says, talking over him. “So it’s settled then. Cuddling and sleeping at my place in fifteen.”

Harry gives an exaggerated groan as he turns the car out of the parking lot, but when Louis glances over at him, it’s obvious that he’s biting back a smile. The car drives down the quiet streets and Louis watches the buildings pass by, but he and Harry don’t speak to each other again until they’ve made their way up to his apartment, brushed their teeth side by side in the bathroom, and fallen into Louis’ bed beside each other.

The room is dark and cool, and Louis can hear the ceiling fan chugging away above them as they lay atop the blankets, not bothering to tuck themselves in. Louis knows Harry isn’t asleep yet, probably won’t be for a while, so he turns onto his side to face him. He hooks his foot around Harry’s calf to give them some kind of contact, determined to cheer Harry up in whatever way he can before they both fall asleep.

“You can’t let the case get to you like this,” Louis says into the silence finally. Harry is laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling through the darkness, and he huffs out a breath when he hears Louis speak, but doesn’t say anything.

“I know you feel responsible for these people being taken, for Niall almost being taken, but Harry...” 

Louis trails off and sighs. He isn’t sure what the right words are to take even a little bit of the weight off of Harry’s shoulders, but he knows he has to try. 

“It’s not your fault. I know you and I know you’re doing everything you can do, and I know you’re going to find who’s doing this and bring everyone home.”

Harry doesn’t speak for several minutes, and though Louis is the opposite of a patient person, he waits quietly.

“I know that this is on the perpetrators. I know that, on some logical level, you know? But I can’t help but feel responsible for every person added to the list of victims because I know that if I’d caught them, that person wouldn’t have been taken. And how can I sleep at night knowing that the victims are probably being treated like blood bags by one of my kind — knowing that their families are lying awake wondering if they’ll ever see their sibling or child again?” 

Harry sounds distraught at the thought, and Louis can’t help but scoot closer to him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s torso and clinging to him like a koala bear. Harry sighs again and turns on his side, letting his arms wrap back around Louis in return, and they lie like that, wrapped up together, for what feels like hours.

Louis can’t help but think about Niall in a hospital bed across the city, lucky to be whole and able to go home tomorrow. He thinks about all the other victims, the ones who didn’t have a friend like Zayn to find them right in time, the ones who are somewhere alone and frightened and probably wondering if they’ll ever see their families and friends again. Louis buries his face in Harry’s shirt to wipe away the tears gathering at his eyes and squeezes Harry tighter, feeling Harry’s own arms tighten around him in response.

“You’ll get them,” Louis whispers. “I know you will.” 

Harry pulls back slightly, and even though his face is only inches away from Louis’, Louis lacks the superior vampire vision that would allow him to see the features of Harry’s face more clearly. They just look at each other for a moment, and Louis desperately hopes that his eyes are communicating how much faith he has in Harry and his ability to solve this case. 

Finally, Harry huffs out a sigh and leans in, giving Louis a kiss on his cheekbone. His lips are dry and soft, and Louis’ cheek tingles the second he pulls away.

“Thanks, Lou,” he says, his voice gruff and overtired. 

Louis reaches down and squeezes his hand in response, and then they don’t speak again until morning.

 

\--

 

“Tell me about the first time you had sex,” Louis says, and Harry groans and rolls over onto his stomach, burying his face in his arms.

“I don’t even remember,” he says, and Louis scoffs loudly. 

He and Harry have been sprawled out on the floor of Harry’s kitchen for roughly two hours now. At first, they were waiting for the cupcakes Harry was baking to finish in the oven, but they’ve been out and cooled for a while now. Every few minutes, Louis tells himself that he should get up so they can move to another room, but he can never bring himself to do it.

The longer they’ve laid here on the floor, the more bizarre and personal the questions they’ve been asking each other have gotten. Louis isn’t sure how they managed to keep the questions safe for so long, but it’s time to venture into more daring territory. 

“You’re such a fucking liar, Harry,” Louis says. “Come on. Fess up.”

When Harry speaks, it’s into his hands, muffling the sound, but Louis can still hear well enough.

“I lost my virginity in the back of a car in the late 50s, I think. I don’t even remember what the guy’s name was, truthfully, but I remember that it was absolutely terrible and I refused to have sex with anyone else for like three years after that,” Harry admits. “Alright, uh, tell me about the worst prank you’ve ever pulled.”

Louis hums thoughtfully, trying to rifle through his memories to pick out one of the best. Louis doesn’t pull many pranks, really, but he does enjoy fucking with his friends quite a bit, so he has plenty of stories to choose from.

“Ah, okay, so this doesn’t really count as a prank, but it’s one of my favorite things I do to mess with Liam, Niall, and occasionally Steve. Zayn too, but it’s much harder with him because it takes so much alcohol to get him drunk. So basically, this all started because Liam broke up with his ex-girlfriend. I decided to take him out and get him wasted, but obviously I had to take care of him, so I made sure I didn’t drink very much myself. We were halfway back to his apartment and he could barely walk, and since I’m not exactly the same size as Liam—“

Harry snorts obnoxiously, clearly intending to poke fun at Louis’ size, so Louis kicks his foot out until he makes contact with a part of Harry’s body. It turns out to be his ankle, and though it doesn’t actually hurt Harry at all, it shuts him up.

“So anyway, we’re sitting there waiting for an Uber to arrive, and Liam starts talking about how his underwear drawer comes alive at night. He was rambling on and on and on about how his Superman boxers, his Iron Man boxers, his Batman boxers, all of them would come alive at night and crawl out of his drawer and dance on the floor. And it was so fucked up, honestly, and I feel like he may have been relaying a weird dream he’d had, but it didn’t even matter because it was hilarious. So I decided to download this recording app.” 

Harry groans. “Tell me you didn’t do that to him on the night after he’d been dumped.” 

Louis shrugs without even an ounce of shame. “I’m man enough to admit that I did it. I recorded him talking about his underwear coming alive. And then it became a thing. Everyone says some weird stuff when they’re fucked up, and now I have it all stored on my phone. I have Zayn talking about what he wants his wedding with Gigi to be like, I have Steve talking about pterodactyl porn, I have Niall speculating about whether it’s legal to marry ducks in the District of Columbia. So many great stories. The second I see someone about to go on a rant while they’re intoxicated, my fingers click that app and hit the big red button. Every single time.” 

Harry laughs. “Remind me to never get drunk around you, alright?”

Louis turns his head to look over at Harry and gives him a devious smile. “I make no promises. Now tell me about the worst thing you’ve ever done.” 

Harry flips over onto his back and gazes at the ceiling while he thinks, Louis waiting patiently for his response. 

“I’ve killed people while being on the force,” Harry says finally. “Always guilty criminals and always because there was no other option, and I don’t regret any of them because I know that more lives would have been lost if I didn’t, but it’s still a terrible thing. It’s the one part of the job I hate, really. I wish there was always another way to stop someone, but sometimes it’s impossible. You have to do what you have to do.”

Harry’s words are heavy, but Louis is glad Harry said them. It’s hard for him to fully understand the role of a vampire officer because Louis’ job is so different, but Louis appreciates that Harry confides these types of things in him. Whether it’s Harry’s guilt over not being able to solve a case or Harry’s acknowledgment that he’s killed people, it teaches Louis about who Harry is, how hard he works, and how meaningful the work he does at the police station every day is. 

“You’re too good for this world, Harry,” Louis says. It’s an odd thing to say after someone admits that they’ve killed people, but it’s one of the truest things Louis has ever said in his life. Harry is too good, and he cares too much, and that’s why he’s both the best and worst person to be a detective on the force. He will let the job eat at him at times, but he'll also save countless lives in the process.

“You’re too good for this world yourself, Louis,” Harry says, and Louis’ instincts tell him to contradict that statement, but Harry’s voice is serious.

“Tell me about your last boyfriend,” Harry says then, and Louis’ body tenses.

"Sorry,” Harry says, apologizing immediately. “I know that’s a sensitive topic for you, so obviously you don’t have to say anything about him if you don’t want to. I can ask something else.” It's only been a handful of seconds since he got the words out, but Harry already looks like he feels terrible.

Louis sits up, leaning against the cabinets and running a hand over his face tiredly. 

“No, I’ll talk about it,” Louis says finally. “I want to tell you about it. It’s fine.” 

“Take your time,” Harry says, sitting up so he’s leaning against the kitchen cabinets on the opposite side of the room from Louis, making it so they’re facing each other. Even though there's like ten feet between them, Louis feels more exposed than ever, but he reminds himself that this is Harry. Harry, who despite being an arrogant pain in the ass sometimes, has always been kind and caring toward Louis, and has never tried to make him feel uncomfortable.

Harry deserves to know this piece of his past not only because it affected how Louis treated Harry when they first met, but also because it explains a lot about how Louis became the person he is today. If Harry and Louis are truly to have a lasting friendship, which is what they seem to be headed for, it makes sense for Harry to know these types of things about Louis.

“Umm, so I met him at _Bite Me_ a couple of years ago, I guess. He was a total asshole, so beyond arrogant, and it wasn’t a façade like it always is for you. He complimented me and flirted with me and drank from me, and then he took me back to his place and we slept together. And then it happened again, and again, and again. I wish I could explain how we ended up dating, but I really don’t understand it myself,” Louis explains. “Sometimes I think that I was just convenient, you know? Like his own personal blood source that he had move in with him so he could have access whenever he wanted it.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, but Louis can see the look of disgust on his face as he waits for Louis to continue the story. 

“He made me think I was so incredibly lucky to get to be with him, you know? He’d tell me stuff about how most vampires don’t want to be in relationships with humans because we’re so inferior. We’re not as fast or as strong. We get sick, we age, and it’s so easy for us to die. It’s like everything I ever did, he’d remind me how he could do it better, and he made me feel like he’d given me a gift when he’d picked me to be with him.” 

Harry makes an angry noise in his throat and turns his face so he’s not looking at Louis for the first time since the story started. His brows are furrowed and he looks like he’s having a bit of a rage blackout, but Louis can tell that he’s trying to rein himself in so he can listen to the rest of what Louis has to say.

“He was destroying my self-esteem day by day, comment after comment, and the boys could see it. Liam and Zayn used to pull me aside all the time. Especially Zayn, actually, I think because he thought that since he was a vampire, he could make it clear that not all vampires think the way Luke does, and that the way Luke thinks isn’t right. That none of the stuff he said was true. That I didn’t deserve to be treated that way,” Louis says, sighing. He remembers how many conversations he and Zayn had back then, and how Louis refused to hear any of it. 

“I think the worst part is that I knew what Luke was saying wasn’t true, on some level, but I thought he loved me, and I thought I loved him, and I thought it would get better. I thought one day he might wake up and start treating me the way I deserved, and that in the meantime, I just had to put up with it.”

“God, Louis,” Harry says softly, looking over at Louis with sad eyes. Louis expects him to say something, but he doesn’t. It seems like he just wanted to say something to remind Louis that he’s still here, that he’s still listening, and that he cares. It helps Louis center himself and focus on the story rather than allowing himself to dwell in the dark headspace that talking about Luke sometimes brings him into. Even after all this time. 

“This went on for a year,” Louis says. “And nothing got better, but I didn’t stop waiting for it to. Or at least, I didn’t until one day I went home to visit my mom, sisters, and brother. I hadn’t been able to make it home in a while because I was so caught up in work and my relationship. Luke hated the idea of me leaving for any period of time because he would say I was his favorite blood bag.” Louis spits those words with disgust, and he sees Harry shake his head angrily.

“It was my sister Lottie’s 18th birthday, and she’d been texting me and begging me to come home to visit. She told me that though my mom would never say anything, she was devastated that I hadn’t visited in a while. I called her everyday, but my mom and I are so close, always were when I was growing up, and it was unusual for me to go so long without seeing her. So I just said ‘fuck it,’ and I texted Luke that I was going home when I got on the plane so it’d be too late for him to talk me out of it,” Louis says, remembering how angry Luke had been when that happened.

“I only stayed for a couple of days, but spending time with my siblings and my mom and step-dad...seeing them happy, and doing the things they loved, and seeing how much they loved me and how proud they were of me, even if I’d been a terrible son and brother for so long...it reminded me of what my mom always taught me growing up. It reminded me of what I knew, deep down. I’d never allowed people to talk over me, or to silence me, or to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough. And I’d been with Luke for so long and gotten so caught up in the bullshit that he would spew that I’d forgotten. It took going home to remember, I guess.” 

Harry’s face is brightening as the story is, and Louis feels pride growing in his chest as he thinks about how far he’s come from the person he was when he was still allowing Luke to ruin him. 

“When I got back to DC, I had a huge fight with Luke. He said something awful about how he’d missed his blood bag while I was away, I think, and I just fucking snapped. I screamed at him for a long time, telling him how terribly he’d treated me, and he just had this look on his face the entire time, like everything I was saying was beneath him. He was so angry that I’d spoken up, that I’d fought back, and I was going to leave, but he kicked me out before I got the chance. Zayn picked me up and I stayed with him until I saw Niall’s ad, and the rest is history, I guess.” 

Harry stands up, and for a second, Louis is confused as to whether it’s finally time for them to move to an actual seat, but Harry just comes over and sits down next to Louis.

“I’m glad you got free of him,” Harry says gently. “I’m glad you remembered how important you are, regardless of whether you’re a human or a vampire.” 

Louis smiles. “I’m glad too,” he says. “Some scars have stuck around, figuratively speaking, as you may have noticed. It’s really hard for me to trust vampires because I always assume that they’ll be like Luke. It doesn’t even make sense considering I knew Zayn before I knew Luke, and he’s obviously an incredible person, but I still just...I think the worst, even when I shouldn’t. It’s why I was such an asshole to you when we first met even though you didn’t deserve it.”

Harry gives Louis a small private smile and knocks their shoulders together. “I don’t blame you for having your guard up, Lou. And I do act like an arrogant asshole sometimes, but I enjoyed bantering with you. I wasn’t offended by anything you said to me. I was happy to prove you wrong.”

Louis shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have to though, you know? I’m sorry for some of the stuff I said. It wasn’t fair and I made too many assumptions about you.” 

“You deserve people in your life who are sensitive to the things that have hurt you in the past,” Harry says. “Everyone is fucked up in some ways, right? When you care about someone, you’re willing to work around some of their issues and you’re willing to help them through others. Maybe I shouldn’t have had to prove you wrong, but I’m glad I did. You deserve people in your life who are willing to run through fire for you. You’re worth that.” 

Louis gets a bit teary eyed at Harry’s words for some reason, and he turns his face away from Harry in the hopes that he won’t notice. Harry being Harry, of course, notices anyway.

He reaches his hand under Louis’ chin and turns his head gently so they’re looking at each other. Louis feels more exposed than ever, tears in his eyes and past out in the open, but Harry still looks at him like he’s the most precious and lovely thing that he’s ever seen. It’s the same way Harry’s looked at him from the first time they met, and every day since.

“I think saying I made you walk through fire for me is a bit of a stretch,” Louis says, hoping to lighten the mood, and Harry laughs. 

“Close enough,” Harry jokes, winking. “I make you walk through your fair share of fire too though, don’t I? After all, I may not be anything like Luke, but I’m still an arrogant vampire sometimes. We butt heads about that quite a bit, wouldn't you say?” 

Louis laughs, dabbing at his eyes. “Yeah, you’re a pain in my ass always,” Louis says.

“Well, that's true in more ways than one," Harry says, and Louis smacks him on the shoulder.

They don’t leave the floor for another three hours, instead just talking quietly side-by-side. It’s one of the best days Louis can remember having in a while, and it’s a day that he knows neither he nor Harry will ever forget.

 

\--

 

Louis doesn’t mean for his and Harry’s cuddling and sleeping together (platonically, obviously) sessions to become a routine, but admittedly, Louis also meant to never see Harry again, to always remember to wash his face before bed, to only wear sweatpants on Sundays, and many other things that never ended up happening. 

When Louis wakes up on a Saturday morning with his face on Harry’s stomach, he can’t even pretend to be surprised. They’d been watching a movie on the television in Harry’s room, and Louis remembers using Harry’s stomach as his own personal pillow, so he must have fallen asleep. Harry’s shirt is riding up slightly, exposing the trail of hair that leads into Harry’s boxers, and there’s a small bit of a drool pooling on Harry’s skin. Oops.

“Uh, hi mom,” Harry says, and Louis sits up with a start.

He glances at Harry, very confused as to what the fuck he’s talking about, and he sees Harry lying back against his headboard with his hands folded behind his head. There’s a smug expression on his face, and it looks like he’s been awake for a while, which means he was probably just laying there letting Louis drool on him while he waited for him wake up. 

Louis follows Harry’s eyes to where they’re trained on the door to his room, which is open. Louis can’t see anything, but a second later, he sees a beautiful middle-aged vampire woman walk into Harry’s bedroom, immediately followed by a vampire woman who only looks a little older than Harry, her hair cut just above the shoulders and dyed blonde. They look so much like Harry that it’s obvious they’re related. 

“And Gem,” Harry says, clearly addressing the younger woman.

Harry’s mother and sister. Harry’s mother and sister are here, standing in Harry’s bedroom, where they just found Harry and Louis laying in bed together, clearly having slept together. 

Louis is about to have a heart attack.

“Um, hi,” he squeaks, hands running down his shirt in an attempt to straighten out the wrinkles before flying up to his hair, which feels like a ratty mess. He glances down at Harry’s stomach quickly and sees the wet spot from his drool drying far too slowly, so Louis quickly yanks Harry’s shirt down to cover it. When he finishes that and looks up, he sees Gemma and Harry’s mother smiling down at him with knowing looks on their faces.

“I’m pretty sure you never mentioned a boyfriend on the phone, sweetheart,” Harry’s mother says, but her smile is bright. “I’m Anne, Harry’s mother, and this is my daughter Gemma. It’s so lovely to meet you!” 

Louis swallows and tries to find the ability to speak, but Harry beats him to it.

“We’re just friends, mom,” he says, voice casual. “This is Louis. We were up late watching movies last night and he fell asleep, so I didn’t want to wake him up and make him go home. It totally slipped my mind that you two were coming this morning.”

Louis’ head whips around to look at Harry when he says that, and Harry meets his eyes with a smirk on his face. There is no way in hell it slipped his mind that his mother and sister were visiting, and Louis knows it, and Harry knows Louis knows it. Harry was awake for god only knows how long this morning while Louis was fast asleep, completely unaware that Harry’s family was on their way, and he could have woken Louis up to warn him and send him home, but he chose not to.

Louis moves his hand across the sheet as casually as he can until he reaches Harry’s hip, and when he does, he pinches as hard as he can. Harry’s smile stays on his face, and aside from an amused twitch of his nose, you wouldn’t even be able to tell that Louis had done anything to him at all.

When Louis turns back to Anne and Gemma, he manages to act like a reasonable human being again.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” he says. They’re both looking at him like they can see right through him, and that means it’s time for him to make a graceful exit. “I should really get going and let you two spend time with young Harold here,” he says, wiggling his way over to the side of the bed and getting to his feet. They all make a similar scoffing sound at Louis, a human, referring to Harry as “young,” and once again, it’s very obvious that they’re all related.

“No, no,” Gemma says, the first thing she’s said since they arrived. “Please stay for a cup of coffee or something. We always love meeting Harry’s, uh, _friends._ ” She places special emphasis on the word, but Louis figures the best course of action is to pretend he didn’t notice, so that’s what he does.

“Um...” Louis trails off and looks to Harry for help.

Harry’s looking at his sister and dimpling, but as soon as Louis looks at him, he returns the gaze.

“You should stay, Lou,” he says, shrugging and finally sitting up straighter on the bed. “I’m gonna go shower your drool off me real quick, but you three go to the kitchen and get started.”

Louis smacks Harry on the arm for that comment, which only makes him laugh, but he follows Anne and Gemma to the kitchen without protest. He feels slightly awkward and out of place with his messy hair and rumpled sweatpants considering how nicely and expensively dressed Harry’s family members are, but they don’t seem to take any notice of his appearance or judge him for it, so he pushes the insecurities aside. 

Once they’re in the kitchen, Anne sets to work brewing Louis some coffee at her own insistence and Gemma pours three glasses of blood for the vampires. Louis hadn’t seen Harry eat at all last night, or at least, nothing that would actually offer him sustenance, since popcorn doesn’t count for vampires, so he imagines he must be hungry.

While the coffee is brewing, Louis tells Gemma and Anne where he’s from and all about his job. They’re very kind and genuinely interested, and it warms Louis’ heart to know that these are two of the people who helped form Harry into the incredible vampire he is today. 

Louis learns that Gemma, Anne, and Anne’s vampire husband, Robin, who couldn’t make it out for the trip, all live in London at the moment, but they try to visit Harry as much as possible since he’s so busy with work. Louis doesn’t know the full details regarding how the Styles-Twist family came to be turned into vampires, but he does know that they all chose to turn at the same time and that it was a unanimous and democratic family decision. 

They make small talk for a while, settling down into the stools surrounding Harry’s kitchen island, and Louis begins to let his guard down. Though he and Harry are just friends, the nerves in his stomach at the beginning of their conversation were similar to the nerves Louis felt meeting his high school boyfriend’s parents for the first time all those years ago. He never met Luke’s family because they’re all dead, but Louis remembers the feeling well enough from high school.

It’s when he lets his guard down that Gemma yanks the rug right out from under him.

“So you and my brother,” she says with a smile that somehow manages to be both sweet and sinister. Her mouth is red from the blood, and Louis pulls his gaze up to look her in the eyes and pretend he’s not at all intimidated.

“We’re just friends,” Louis says far too quickly.

Gemma smirks as she pours his coffee into a mug before pouring a second mug for Anne. 

“So there’s no interest there at all?” Gemma asks, handing him his coffee. 

Louis takes a sip to put off responding for a brief moment and burns his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says, and when he looks at Anne apologetically for his poor language, she just smiles at him and waves a hand in the air nonchalantly. Louis sticks his tongue out and peers down at it over his nose to see if there’s any visible burn, but he quickly realizes that not only can he not see anything, but he also now looks like an idiot.

He retracts his tongue and looks at Gemma, who is still looking at him expectantly. 

“Well, you know,” Louis says. “We may have, upon first meeting, not been strictly platonic. But we are just friends, definitely, of course, and there’s no interest there from me, and certainly not from him, so uh, yeah,” Louis finishes lamely, barely able to stop himself from visibly wincing at how badly that explanation went. 

“Gem,” Harry says as he enters the kitchen, snapping Louis out of his embarrassment. “Leave the poor man alone. We’re friends and that’s it. Louis and I definitely don’t have any feelings for each other beyond friendship. None whatsoever. Right, Lou?” Harry says, smiling wide and snagging the mug out of Louis’ hand and taking a long sip of his coffee. It’s apparently cool enough now, or maybe Harry’s just indifferent to the burning of his tongue because he’s a vampire.

It’s no different than what Louis has been saying over and over and over since the night he saw Harry at the bar after they slept together. It’s no different than what Louis just said himself a few minutes ago when prompted by Gemma.

But something about hearing Harry say it like that, like it’s not a big deal, like it’s just a laugh, like he means it...

Something about it hurts. 

Louis told himself that this wouldn’t happen. He was never going to allow himself to develop feelings for another vampire because while the sex is amazing, dating vampires has only ever brought Louis self-doubt and heartbreak. He did everything he could to keep Harry at a distance for that very reason, because even though Harry can be a cocky bastard and has flaws just like anyone else on the planet, Louis quickly learned that even at the worst of times, Harry Styles is the best person Louis has ever met. 

As much as Louis tried to pretend it wasn’t happening, Louis has been falling for Harry this entire time. And somehow, even as Louis denied it every opportunity he got, Louis always looked at the sexual tension and friendship between he and Harry as a ticking time bomb — he always expected that one day, it would explode, and they would fall back into each other again for real. Even after they slept together the second time, when Louis was determined to fuck these feelings out of his system, he still wasn't able to fool himself into thinking that he didn't want it to happen again. 

But now it seems like Louis missed his chance for anything more, if there ever even was one in the first place. Harry thinks of him and Louis as friends with no chance of a future together, whether that future is sexual or romantic. He just spelled it out clearly to his mother, his sister, and Louis, shutting down the hopes that Louis has been harboring secretly without even fully admitting it to himself.

Louis can’t blame Harry for that. Louis made the rules, after all. Louis is the one who said it was nothing.

He can’t blame Harry for agreeing with him.

Louis’ stomach is twisted with knots, and suddenly, his desire for coffee has vanished. Harry hands back the mug, a slightly concerned look on his face, because of course he noticed that Louis became caught up in his own head and that his mood has shifted. Harry always notices shit like that.

“I just remembered that I’m supposed to meet Niall soon,” Louis says, putting the coffee mug down on the counter and getting up out of the stool. “Anne, Gemma, it was so nice to meet you.” Louis walks over to them and they both give him tight hugs. When Louis pulls back from Gemma, he pretends not to see the sympathetic look on her face. 

They both return the sentiment kindly and tell him that they hope to see him again soon. 

Finally, Louis walks over to Harry, who wraps his arms around him without hesitation. 

“I’ll see you soon, Lou,” Harry says, and Louis nods. 

He pulls back from the hug and walks over to the door, taking a second to grab his jacket where it’s draped over the back of the couch. He feels around to make sure that his cell phone and keys are still in the pockets, and then he turns back to wave to Harry and his family. When he does, he sees Gemma and Harry having a very intense conversation with their eyes and Anne’s eyes flicking between the two of them, completely unsurprised by their silent communication. 

Louis doesn’t interrupt them. He just lets himself out.

 

\--

 

“You have too many fucking records,” Louis says. He regretted his decision to help Harry reorganize his vinyl collection the moment he did it, but now that he’s here and buried amidst several hundred records, that regret is at a whole new level.

“I’ve been alive for 74 years, Louis,” Harry says snootily. “Of course I have a lot of fucking records, alright? Let me live.” 

Louis shrugs and adds another three records to the rock genre pile. They aren’t even finished sorting them by genre yet, and once they do that, they’ll still have to alphabetize them within each genre, but quite frankly, Louis is ready for a break. If he takes one though, he knows he’ll probably run away and never come back.

“I used to have such a crush on this guy,” Harry says, holding up a record with some man’s face on it. Louis doesn’t even know who that musician is, but he’s not about to admit that to Harry. “Totally my type, you know? Brunette, blue eyes, smaller than me, absolutely gorgeous. And so funny and kind too. I went to see him in concert a few times when I was much younger and it was amazing.”

Louis feels his hands curling into fists the longer Harry talks.

“I always used to dream that—“

And nope, that's it. Louis can’t take it anymore. He’s been buried in Harry’s records for an hour, and more importantly, he’s been moping around his apartment for days over the fact that Harry doesn’t have feelings for him, and he just. He can’t deal with Harry going on and on about how his type is someone that sounds just like Louis when his type is not Louis himself. It’s too much.

“Why aren’t you into me?” The words burst out of Louis suddenly, and that definitely wasn’t what he meant to say. 

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he stops speaking abruptly.

“What?” He asks, and Louis sees his mouth twitch as though he was about to smile, but Louis knows that can’t be right in the context of this conversation.

“You aren’t into me. You just described your type and I fit it completely, and you slept with me, I mean, you slept with me _twice._ But you aren’t into me. You said it yourself in front of Gemma and your mom last weekend. And I just — I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be asking you to explain this because sometimes you like people, and sometimes you don’t. There isn’t always a discernible reason. But it seemed like you were into me when we first met, I mean, you were pursuing me, right? And sometimes it still seems like that, but you don’t do anything about, and you say you’re not into me.”

Louis is talking a mile a minute, but Harry seems to be keeping up if the growing alarm on his face is anything to go by.

“Louis, you said that you just wanted to be friends,” Harry says gently.

“God, I know, I’m a fucking idiot. I said that because I was terrified you were going to be like Luke, you know? I fucked up. I fucked up so badly and I’m sorry, but you were cool with it! You’re still so cool with it. And I just — I need to know. Is it my personality? Do you think of me as a brother or something?” Harry makes a face and chokes on his saliva when Louis says that, but he’s on a roll and he’s not stopping now. “Why aren’t you into me? Why aren’t I good enough?”

Louis takes a breath, fully intending to continue, but Harry cuts him off.

“Louis, I _am_ into you,” Harry says, and for a full ten seconds, Louis is stunned into silence.

“What the fuck?” Louis says, completely bewildered. “Then why — then why didn’t you say something?”

Harry stands up, stepping carefully over two piles of records and pulling Louis to his feet. 

Louis is unsteady, legs wobbling dangerous, but Harry steadies him with a hand on his hip and another cupping his jaw gently, just as he did the first night they kissed. They just look at each other for a few seconds, blue eyes on green, and a slow smile stretches across Harry’s face. It’s vaguely reminiscent of all of Harry’s smug smiles, but there’s something about it that makes Louis pause. The smile is smug, but it’s also just so unbelievably happy. 

“I was waiting on you,” Harry says simply, and Louis’ heart skips a beat. 

Louis isn’t sure who closes the distance, but their mouths meet in a way that they never did previously, not the first time they slept together, nor the second. There’s something gentle and overwhelmingly domestic about it, as though they’ve already spent a lifetime kissing like this, and the feeling of Harry’s lips on his again would knock Louis off his feet if Harry didn’t have such a good grip on him. 

“I can’t believe you thought I didn’t want you,” Harry says, pulling away just enough to speak. “Do you think I handcuff all of my friends and let them ride me on the sofa?” His eyes are sparkling.

Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and lets his fingers begin playing with his curls. 

“I felt like I was going crazy with how badly I wanted you,” Louis explains, leaning in to kiss Harry again before pulling back. “And it felt like you were fucking with me a bit, trying to get me sexually frustrated and overwhelmed, but I couldn’t tell if you did that because you knew I wanted you, or because you wanted me back.”

Harry gives a low laugh and kisses Louis again softly.

“I _was_ fucking with you,” he says, and Louis pinches the back of his neck. “I wanted you from the second I saw you, and even more so once I got to know you, but I knew you weren’t ready. So I waited, and I fucked with you a bit in the meantime, and I waited some more. I knew when you were ready to admit it to yourself, you’d come to me.”

Louis shakes his head in disbelief at how successfully Harry outmaneuvered him. Louis acted like a brat to Harry for months, playing as though he didn’t want him, and all this time, Harry has been playing him right back.

“And you did,” Harry says, dimpling.

Louis doesn’t know how long they stand there kissing and talking quietly to each other, but eventually, they both come to the realization that they’re still standing among stacks of dusty records in Harry’s living room. It looks like someone totally upended the place during a burglary or something, and though they’ve been lost in each other since Louis’ admission, the atmosphere isn’t exactly the most romantic. 

“Um,” Harry says uncertainty, eyeing the mess warily. “Do you want to move to my bedroom?” 

Louis doesn’t need to be asked twice. He lets Harry lead him down the hall to the bedroom, where Harry’s sheets and blankets are strewn about as though he didn’t expect to have company in this room today. He didn’t, Louis knows, and he can’t help the smug feeling that settles in his chest because even though Harry has been playing him for ages, Louis is the one who caught him off guard today. 

Harry pulls Louis down on the bed and immediately rolls on top of him, with Louis thighs bracketing Harry’s hips and their bodies pressed together from chest to groin. Harry smiles down at him and they kiss again, deeper this time, the slow rhythm from earlier evolving into something with more heat and intent.

“Did your sister say anything to you?” Louis asks suddenly, pulling back from the kiss. Harry shakes his head slightly as though trying to snap himself out of lust mode and looks down at Louis in surprise and confusion. “Like, about me,” Louis clarifies, thinking back to the silent conversation he witnessed Harry and Gemma having as he left last weekend.

Harry’s confusion clears. “Ah, yes, she did,” he says. “She knew I was into you, of course. I was really quite obvious to everyone except you, apparently, so she asked me why the fuck I was acting like I didn’t have feelings for you. She also said I made you sad,” Harry says, expression softening. “Which wasn’t what I wanted to do, by the way.”

Louis shrugs, feeling the sheets bunch up under his shoulders. “I deserved it. I was a brat,” he says, and Harry’s grin says he doesn’t necessarily disagree. 

“I told her my plan and she told me I'm an idiot, but she’ll eat her words when she realizes how successful I was,” Harry says, and that arrogant look on his face is back. “Anyway, stop talking about my sister.” 

Harry’s smile turns into a frown as he realizes that Louis just tried to have a discussion about Harry’s family when Harry clearly had other intentions for coming to the bedroom. 

Louis laughs and kisses Harry again, finally taking the opportunity to reach for the buttons of his shirt.

It takes them a while to get undressed because neither one of them wants to separate long enough to remove their clothes properly, instead choosing to yank messily at each article of clothing until it comes off their bodies. Harry’s shirt ends up ripped and Louis’ socks go flying, but eventually, there is bare skin on bare skin. 

“I want to blow you,” Louis whispers, and Harry groans. 

“Well, I‘m not gonna say no to that,” Harry says, kissing Louis quickly on the mouth. Louis pulls back and gives Harry a devilish grin before pushing him, and Harry goes willingly, eventually falling onto his back on the bed beside Louis. 

Louis gets onto his knees between Harry’s legs and grasps Harry’s cock, taking a moment to appreciate the size and weight of it in a way that he was never able to the last two times, all because he was too busy pretending he wasn’t that into Harry.

It’s been a while since Louis’ blown someone, and he can’t help the nerves bubbling in his stomach, but Harry is looking down at him like this is the best moment of his life despite the fact that Louis hasn’t even done anything yet. 

Louis starts off slowly, just a few kitten licks to the head, and when Harry is used to the feeling, he switches it up by licking along the vein on the underside. Harry’s head falls back against the headboard immediately, making a loud painful sound that reminds Louis of how many times he hit his head the first night they hooked up. 

Just as Louis was too distracted by how good he felt then, Harry is now too, and he doesn’t even seem to notice that anything happened, and that makes Louis glow with pride. Louis wants to really prove himself to Harry now, though he knows Harry would be content with whatever Louis wanted to give him. 

Louis pokes his tongue in the slit of Harry's cock, lapping up the precome there, and Harry gives a full body shudder. He can’t help but smile to himself after seeing Harry so overwhelmed, because previously it always felt like Louis was the one losing his head. Now, it’s Harry’s turn.

Louis takes him down slowly, careful not to allow his teeth to graze Harry’s dick. The first time he tries to deep throat him, Louis’ gag reflex protests, making Louis choke and sputter a bit. The vibrations of his throat during that misstep make Harry groan, and as Louis catches his breath and pulls himself together to prepare to try again, he can tell that it’s taking every bit of self-control Harry has to resist thrusting up into Louis’ mouth. 

The second time is the charm, in this case, and when Louis’ nose hits the curly patch at the base of Harry's cock, his eyes are watering and his mouth and throat feel overwhelmingly full, but it’s worth it by the sound that Harry makes.

“Fuck, baby,” Harry gasps out, and his thighs are shaking under Louis’ hands.

Louis pulls off just to smile at Harry, who has an awed look on his face. 

“Good?” He asks, and Harry just lets out a shaky laugh. 

“You can fuck my mouth if you want,” Louis says, and Harry’s mouth gapes open in surprise. It’s very rare that humans let vampires do that because it would be so easy for vampires to lose control and cause serious damage with their excessive strength, but Louis trusts Harry more than he trusts almost anyone. He knows Harry won’t hurt him. 

“Okay,” Harry says, voice even shakier than before.

Louis takes him down again, and Harry lets his hips thrust up a bit, testing the waters. When Louis nods slightly and doesn’t pull off, Harry lets himself thrust up a bit more, and then more, until he’s fucking Louis’ mouth properly, filling his throat and making his eyes water and helping Louis feel like he’s finally returning even a small amount of the pleasure Harry has managed to give him in the past.

Louis’ mouth is stretched so wide that the corners of his mouth sting, and Harry keeps checking to make sure he doesn’t want to stop, but Louis just waves him off. Harry is fucking his mouth in earnest, but there’s something about it that’s still so controlled, and Louis can tell that even in the throes of pleasure, Harry’s first concern is making sure Louis doesn’t get hurt. 

Finally, Louis motions for Harry to stop, and he ceases his movement immediately. Harry looks concerned for a moment, clearly wondering if it was too much and he hurt Louis, but Louis just puts his small hands on Harry’s hips and swallows him down without warning. When he’s taken Harry as far as he can, he stifles his gag reflex and hums, and just as anticipated, Harry comes like that, right down his throat with a long groan and shaking limbs. 

Louis swallows around him carefully before pulling off, and Harry doesn’t even give him time to catch his breath before he’s pulling Louis on top of him and kissing him, moaning at the taste of himself lingering on Louis’ lips. 

“Lay down on your stomach, baby,” Harry commands, so Louis forces himself away from Harry’s mouth and flops down onto the bed face down, gasping when his dick rubs against the sheets. Louis was so distracted by trying to make Harry come that he forgot about his own erection, but now, his cock is so hard that he can’t think of anything else.

Louis can’t help but push his hips down against the sheets slightly, and he bites one of Harry’s pillows to avoid crying out. He isn’t sure what Harry is doing, not bothering to look over, but it’s only a few seconds later that Louis hears the sound of the lube being opened. 

“I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers until you come, alright, baby?” Harry says, voice deeper than usual, and Louis whimpers.

When the first touch of Harry’s finger comes, Louis shivers, and it’s not just because the lube is cold. Louis thinks back to the first time against the wall, and how much Harry surprised him with how gentle and thorough he was with his tongue, his hands, his cock. It’s no different this time, as Harry eases the first finger into Louis’ body slowly, allowing him to adjust fully before he adds a second finger. 

He scissors them slightly, and Louis pushes his hips back, begging for more with his body, but Harry only gives what he wants to give when he wants to give it, no more or no less, and Louis ends up pushing his hips back down against the bed, causing enough friction against his cock that he whimpers again.

Louis keeps waiting for Harry to add a third finger, but he doesn’t, instead opting to direct the two already inside Louis against his prostate, rubbing against it like he knew exactly where it was the whole time, like he memorized its location the first two times, and honestly, Louis wouldn’t put it past him. Louis moans openly at the feeling, and it’s so hot, the way Harry can manipulate Louis’ body without even really trying, pushing him right to the brink with just his fingers.

Louis is pushing his hips against the bed shamelessly now, desperate for relief, but Harry seems to know exactly how to get him there. Without any warning, Harry bites into Louis’ left ass cheek with his fangs, and Louis cries out loudly enough that he’d be concerned for Harry’s neighbors if he cared about anything other than this right now. The feeling of euphoria crashes over him, and Louis grinds his hips into the bed one more time and comes without the help of anything more than the friction from the bed.

Harry pulls back and licks at the bite marks gently, lapping up any remaining blood before flopping over onto his back on the bed and pulling Louis toward him and out of the wet spot left behind from his come. Louis leans his head on Harry’s chest, happiness thrumming through his veins, and Harry leans down to kiss him on the head several times.

“I’ll fuck you in the morning,” Harry promises, voice tired, and Louis smiles against Harry’s chest. 

“Thanks for waiting on me,” Louis says softly even though he knows they’re both so close to drifting off.

Harry doesn’t say anything, but Louis feels his fingers tracing patterns on Louis arms. Louis feels him draw a three and something else beside it, but he’s too tired to think about it. 

Instead, he lets his eyes fall closed, falling asleep within seconds.

 

\--

 

On Thursday evening, Liam and Cheryl organize for all of their friends to meet at a new restaurant opening in their neighborhood. They’ve been talking about it since it was announced that it would be built, and Louis knows they’ve been excited to finally have a new dining option because of the limited selection around where they live. 

Louis has been looking forward to this because the food sounds great, but there’s one problem now that it’s finally time to try the restaurant out. Harry and Louis are dating, and none of their friends know about it yet.

Louis isn’t quite ready for the endless barrage of teasing he’s going to receive when he tells everyone, which Harry fully understands and respects, so they’ve decided to keep it between them for a little while. That being said, hanging out with their friends while pretending they're not together is going to be a difficult feat.

They’ve only been dating for a handful of days, but it’s already nearly impossible for them to keep their hands off of each other for more than a few minutes at a time when they’re in the same place. Harry keeps giving Louis looks like he wants to eat him, and Louis can feel himself staring hungrily at Harry too. Two weeks ago, their relationship was platonic and they knew how to act that way (to some extent, at least), but now that they have this, they don’t know how to pretend that they don’t. 

Louis and Harry share an Uber from Harry’s apartment to the restaurant, but Harry waits outside for an extra three minutes so Louis can go in and act like he arrived alone.

Everyone is already there and settled around a large wooden table adorned with enormous empty plates, and Louis takes one of the two empty seats. His is on the corner of the table next to Zayn’s, and the other empty seat is between Cheryl and Gigi on the opposite side of the table. 

Louis tries not to let his face fall at the prospect of not being able to even sit next to Harry, but it’s difficult.

When Harry walks in a couple of minutes later, casual as can be, he pulls off his sunglasses and gives everyone a friendly wave. He looks extremely attractive, hair tousled from when his sunglasses were perched on his head earlier, and Louis really wants to kiss him. Even more so when Harry gives him a lingering glance and licks his lips.

Everyone says their hellos to Harry and he returns them happily before settling down in his chair and flipping open the menu. Louis knows Harry isn’t in the mood for human food tonight and will probably just order a blood substitute, but it makes him smile that Harry still flips through the menu just to be polite. 

When the waitress comes around to take their orders, Louis orders a petite sirloin and a beer. He’s hungry from the strenuous activity he and Harry enjoyed earlier, and as he begins having vivid flashbacks of what they were doing before they left for the restaurant, he can’t help but glance across the table at Harry. 

Harry is deep in conversation with Gigi about something, and Louis is pretty sure that Zayn is actually trying to talk to him too, but he can’t focus on that when he wants to catch his boyfriend’s attention. 

For whatever reason, Harry always seems to have a sixth sense that tells him when Louis is looking at him, so it doesn’t take him more than thirty seconds for him to return the eye contact. Gigi is still talking, but Harry raises his eyebrows at Louis and flicks his eyes in the direction of the large bathroom sign on the far wall of the room.

“Sorry, bro, but I gotta pee,” Louis says, interrupting Zayn mid-sentence. He’s not even sure what Zayn was trying to chat with him about, honestly, but he’ll ask when he gets back. 

The bathroom is a single stall and Louis would feel bad waiting for Harry in there when someone might need to actually use it, so he just waits in the hallway. There’s a door separating the main room of the restaurant from the hallway, so there’s no concern of their friends being able to see Louis standing there when Harry follows after him.

Louis hums under his breath while he waits, and he barely makes it halfway through the song playing over the speakers before the door to the hallway is opening again. Louis holds his breath, but he immediately lets it out when he sees that it’s just Harry.

“Hey, baby,” Harry says, immediately pulling Louis in for a kiss.

“This whole hiding thing kinda blows,” Louis says when he pulls away, though he’s fully aware that it’s his idea. 

Harry nods in agreement and leans in again, licking Louis’ lips open and reaching his hands around to grip Louis’ ass. Louis moans into his mouth and gives back as good as he gets, nibbling at Harry’s bottom lip and kissing him back with an intensity that has them both panting in no time. 

Harry slips his hand down the back of Louis’ jeans without warning, making Louis jump slightly, but Harry kisses him quiet. He just holds Louis’ ass under his jeans for a few seconds, large hands cupping his cheeks, but it’s not long before he’s slipping his hand into Louis’ boxers as well. 

Harry reaches his finger down Louis’ crack, teasing gently, but he can’t quite reach where he wants to touch. He makes a frustrated noise and hitches Louis’ leg up, forcing Louis to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck until he’s up against the wall yet again. 

Harry lets his finger slip down the crack of Louis’ ass again, and this time, he’s able to reach his destination. Louis' hole is still tender from earlier, but Harry doesn’t try to push inside him, instead just rubbing the pad of his index finger against him enough to make him shudder.

“Still a bit open from earlier,” Harry whispers, and Louis swallows hard. “I’m gonna fuck you again when we get home, okay?” He says, and Louis kisses him again instead of responding.

“You guys are actually disgusting,” a voice says just as the flash of a camera goes off, and Harry drops Louis in surprise. He immediately realizes what he’s done and acts to ensure that Louis lands on his feet only slightly less gracefully than usual, of course, but he still fucking drops him.

That annoys Louis, but he needs to focus on the problem at hand.

Zayn.

“I fucking knew it,” Zayn says, laughing. He’s holding his iPhone up, and it’s immediately evident that he followed them back here and snapped a photo of them making out against the wall. Zayn flips the phone around so they can see the slightly blurry photo he took.

Though the photo is terrible, it’s obvious that it’s Louis and Harry making out, it’s obvious that Louis is being held up against the wall, and it’s also very obvious that Harry’s hand is down the back of Louis’ pants. You can’t see anything, of course, but still. Louis fucking hates Zayn.

“What are you going to do with that, you fucking voyeur?” Louis hisses, and Harry puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I’m showing it to everyone at the table as proof that I won the bet,” Zayn says. Without further explanation, he turns around, opens the door, and marches back to their table.

“I didn’t even hear the goddamn door open,” Louis mutters. “But what’s your excuse? You have super hearing!”

Harry makes a face and shrugs. “You’re very distracting,” he says, and Louis rolls his eyes.

“Well, we might as well get this over with,” he says, grabbing Harry’s hand and dragging him out the door after Zayn.

When they get back to the table, all their friends are staring at them.

Louis comes to a stop right by the edge of the table and puts his hands on his hips. Harry stops right beside him, and Louis can tell he’s holding back laughter, but Louis is not amused at the moment.

“What bet?” Louis asks, moving his eyes from one person to the next, making his way around the table and making eye contact with every single one of his friends in an attempt to wear them down.

Louis would like to say that Zayn breaks first because of how intimidating Louis’ glare is, but he’s pretty sure it’s less that Zayn breaks and more that Zayn decides to take an opportunity to make fun of Louis.

“We bet on how long it would take for you to give into your little crush,” Zayn says matter-of-factly.

“I didn’t have a crush,” Louis says, and Harry gives a little cough beside him. Louis ignores him. “How long ago did you make this little bet?” 

Liam pipes up. “Right after you slept with him the first time, honestly,” he says, and Louis groans. “I thought it would take a little longer and so did Niall. The girls had a bit more faith in you and thought you’d take less time than you did to give in, but Zayn was just about right. I think he guessed some date next week.” 

“I honestly hate every single person here right now,” Louis says.

Harry tugs Louis slightly so he turns and faces him. “You don’t hate me,” he says, pouting like a child, and Louis can’t help but kiss him. When he pulls back, Harry is smiling smugly again. 

Harry pulls him in to kiss him again when they’re rudely interrupted. 

“Get a room!” Niall shouts obnoxiously loud considering they’re in a restaurant, but Louis supposes he can’t really judge other peoples’ decorum when Harry practically started finger-fucking him in the back of the restaurant three minutes ago.

“Judging by that picture Zayn just showed us, they don’t need a room,” Gigi says. “They just need a hallway.”

Louis is about to snap again, but Harry kisses him fiercely, capturing Louis’ attention fully. It’s impossible to concentrate on anything else when Harry’s lips are on his, and Harry uses that to his advantage. Since their friends are all watching and laughing, a distant buzzing in Louis’ ears, Harry goes full on drama with it and dips Louis right there in the middle of the restaurant.

Their friends applaud so loudly that the waitress has to come over to ask them to quiet down. 

Overall, being exposed could have gone worse.

 

\--

 

Louis jumps a foot off the couch when the apartment door opens and slams closed within a split second, and before his mind can register that it’s just his boyfriend, he already has one hand pressed over his heart in fear.

“Jesus Christ, Harry,” Louis says, rubbing his hand over his chest as though the motion will slow his heartbeat. He hits the button on the remote lying on the arm of the chair to power off the TV.

“Sorry, baby,” Harry says, appearing by Louis’ side in an instant and leaning down for a quick kiss.

Louis sighs and kisses him back before budging over slightly to give Harry a bit more room to spread out if he wants to. 

Harry flops onto his back on the couch beside Louis like he owns the place and then maneuvers himself until his head is in Louis’ lap. Louis’ hands instinctively fall to his hair, fingers running through the strands and messing up any semblance of order his curls had at work.

“What’s wrong, H?” Louis asks, hands still petting through Harry’s hair. There’s still some lingering product in it, but by the time Louis finishes combing his fingers through it, he knows it will be wild and fluffy, just the way he likes it. 

Harry groans in response to Louis’ question and doesn’t open his eyes, which had fallen closed the moment Louis touched his hair.

“Issues with the case?” Louis asks. He probably shouldn’t press, but he’s curious.

Harry keeps his eyes closed, head still in Louis’ lap, but he begins talking.

“Got a call today from one of the young women who was kidnapped last weekend,” Harry says. “Well, her friend got a call. First time anyone's had contact with any of them, so it’s nice to have the confirmation that the vampires taking them aren’t killing them, but I always assumed they were being trafficked for their blood, not killed.”

Louis can’t suppress the shiver that runs through his body at what's happening to those people being talked about so matter-of-factly. He can’t imagine how terrified the kidnapping victims must be feeling right now wherever they are. It could just have easily been Niall in one of their places, or Louis, or someone else Louis knows and loves. They’re all vulnerable until the bastard who is doing this is caught.

“What’d she say? Where is she?” Louis asks.

Harry sighs deeply again. “She barely had a minute to talk before the phone was disconnected, unsurprisingly. The friend wrote everything she said down immediately, which was helpful because she probably didn’t forget anything. The victim, Leigh Ann, her name is, said she doesn’t know where she is, but it’s not DC. She was in a car blindfolded for a long time, apparently. She said whoever has her is drinking from her, but that’s all she managed to get out before the phone call ended.” 

Louis leans down to give Harry a kiss on his nose. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” he says. “I’m guessing she didn’t give any information that would be helpful to finding her?”

Harry shrugs, and when he speaks again, his voice sounds defeated. “She said when she was still in DC, there was leather and a specific scent. She repeated that three times, apparently, but when her friend asked her what she meant, Leigh Ann didn’t answer. And I can’t...” 

Harry trails off for a moment and Louis waits patiently for him to pick the sentence back up.

“I can’t do anything with that. I’m so fucking frustrated because I’ve been working on this same goddamn case for months, yet we’ve got nothing. Nothing at all. No word on where the victims are beyond ‘not here,’ and I doubt they’re all in the same place, so they could be spread across the country for all I know. Thirty. The number is at thirty. That's thirty innocent people ripped away from their families, their friends, their lives, and I can’t do a fucking thing to help them because I can’t figure out who’s responsible.”

“Harry,” Louis tries to interrupt his rant and reaches out with his free hand, the hand not threading through Harry’s hair, to grab Harry’s hand and squeeze it. “You can’t blame—“

Harry shakes his head frantically in Louis’ lap. “I promised their families I would do everything I could, Louis.” 

Louis sighs. “H, you are doing everything you can. So is Nick, so is the entire police department. It’s not your fault.”

Harry doesn’t answer, and Louis knows he’s not taking his words to heart. He’s going to continue beating himself up like this until the people responsible are found and the victims are brought home, Louis knows, but Louis isn't going to stop trying to comfort him.

They’re silent for a few minutes, and just as Louis is about to change the subject and get Harry’s mind off of everything, Harry speaks again.

“Fucking leather and cedarwood,” he says, and Louis frowns, confused.

“What?” He asks.

“Cedarwood.” Harry repeats. “That’s the scent the Leigh Ann talked about in the phone call. Leather and the smell of cedarwood.”

The words are barely out of Harry’s mouth before Louis’ blood runs cold. His hand pauses in Harry’s hair, snagged on a tangled curl, and Louis can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

Leather and the smell cedarwood. It’s far too familiar. 

"Baby?” Harry asks, startling Louis from his thoughts. Louis immediately begins petting his hair again.

“Sorry,” he says, swallowing hard. He hopes his voice is steady. 

Harry sits up, and for a moment, Louis is scared he’s realized that something is off. Instead, Harry pulls Louis toward him, and Louis takes the hint, swinging one leg over Harry’s lap and straddling him, settling his butt down on Harry’s thighs and making himself comfortable. He leans down to kiss Harry thoroughly and tries to focus on the softness of Harry’s lips and the feeling of Harry’s tongue in his mouth rather than anything else.

It doesn’t take long for Louis to feel Harry hardening beneath him, so Louis scoots back toward Harry’s knees to give him some room to work and lets his hand sweep down Harry’s chest. He pulls Harry’s shirt out of the top of his jeans, hands stroking over Harry’s stomach, before carefully unfastening Harry’s jeans and pulling the zipper down.

“I think you need a distraction,” Louis says, smiling against Harry’s lips, and Harry’s breathing has accelerated.

“Fuck,” Harry grits out before wrapping one arm around Louis to ensure that he doesn’t fall backwards off of Harry’s lap and onto the floor. Without loosening his protective grip on Louis, Harry lifts his ass off the couch to pull his jeans and underwear down enough that Louis can get his cock out. 

He’s half hard already, and it doesn’t take long for Louis to coax him to full hardness with the help of a tight hand wrapped around his cock and Louis’ lips on his. Louis doesn’t slow down, instead keeping his strokes firm and twisting on the upstroke occasionally just to hear Harry groan.

Harry tries to reach for the front of Louis’ pants at one point, clearly intending to return the favor, but Louis swats his hands away. 

“Just let me,” Louis begs. “I just want to make you feel better, okay?” 

Harry surges forward to kiss Louis again hard on the mouth, and Louis kisses back just as intensely, hoping that his lips are expressing everything he wants to say. Harry is good. Too good, and he doesn’t deserve to be dealing with any of the stress that he’s dealing with, and Louis just wants to make it better. Just wants to fix it in whatever way he can.

And in this moment, this is how he can do that.

Harry comes unexpectedly when Louis bites down on his lower lip, hips bucking upwards, and Louis doesn’t stop stroking him until he’s done. There’s come on Louis’ hand, so he lifts it to his mouth and cleans it off with his tongue, partially because he’s too lazy to move, and partially because he loves the way it makes Harry go half lidded.

Louis is half hard too, of course, because how could he not be after watching the most attractive man he’s ever seen in his life coming beneath him? When Harry reaches forward to try to get Louis off again, however, Louis stops him for the second time of the night.

Harry’s brows furrow. 

“You don’t want me to...” He trails off and begins again. “Do you need me to bite you, baby?”

Louis gives Harry a tight smile and shakes his head, which only makes the concern on Harry’s face grow more pronounced. Louis kisses Harry until the lines on his face straighten out and he’s sighing with happiness.

“I’m good,” he says when they finally pull back from each other. “Just tired.”

Harry nods and throws Louis over his shoulder, which he knows makes Louis shriek in a slightly less than dignified way and pound his fists on Harry's back. It would be cute except for the fact that Harry immediately stumbles over his own jeans, which are still bunched up just below his knees, and he doesn’t fall to the floor and take Louis with him, but it’s a close call. Louis laughs as Harry tries to wiggle out of the jeans and pull his underwear back up without putting Louis down, but he eventually succeeds. He also readjusts Louis so he can carry him bridal style, which tends to be a bit safer for both of them.

“Let’s nap for a while then,” Harry says. Louis nods and buries his face in Harry’s neck as he’s carried to the bedroom, inhaling the scent of Harry’s musky cologne and trying to calm to anxious churning in his gut.

Harry lays Louis down and lays down in the bed beside him, settling on his side so he’s facing Louis.

“I’ll make you some dinner when we wake up, okay?” He wraps his larger pinky around Louis’ smaller one as he speaks, and Louis gives him a small smile and nods.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Louis says, and Harry dimples.

“Good,” he says, leaning in to give Louis a kiss on the forehead.

Louis lets his eyes fall closed and forces his breathing to even out and slow down, and he listens carefully as Harry’s breathing slows down beside him. It only takes about ten minutes for Harry to begin snoring, always a dead giveaway that he’s out like a light, but Louis waits another ten just to be certain.

Finally, he gently lets go of Harry’s pinky and gets out of the bed as quietly as he can, taking care to upset the mattress as little as possible so as to avoid waking Harry up. Despite being a vampire, Harry loves to sleep, and not only does he love it, but he’s also amazing at it. He passes out open-mouthed, snores, and the more nights Louis spends with him, the more he realizes that Harry sleeps more deeply than any human Louis has ever met. It's actually quite impressive considering his advanced hearing should startle him out of sleep often. 

Louis has never been more thankful for Harry’s ability to sleep deeply as he is when he quietly pads back out to the living room and comes to a stop in front of the bookcase. On the third shelf down, there are several photo albums, beginning with a few of his siblings and other family members that his mom gave him when he moved to DC, and ending with the last photo album that Louis bothered to fill, one from a couple of years ago now. 

That’s the one Louis picks up and carries with him over to the couch, where he settles down cross-legged. He opens the album on his lap and takes a deep breath as he flips through the first few pages. He thinks the photograph that he’s looking for will be toward the end of the album, but he flips through the pages one by one anyway as though the extra time it takes him before he gets to that page will help him prepare him. 

The photo he’s looking for is on the second to last page, and for a moment, Louis just lets himself stare at it. He hasn’t looked at this particular photo since he was crying and packing away his belongings after the breakup, and he pictured it in his mind’s eye immediately when Harry mentioned what the kidnapping victim kept repeating, but he still takes a moment to come to terms with what he’s looking at.

It’s a photo of him and Luke from back when Louis thought he was happy. They’re in the finished basement of Luke’s home in an affluent neighborhood of DC, and Louis’ legs are drapped over Luke’s lap. They’re both smiling, and Louis is looking at the camera, but Luke is looking at Louis. The quality of the photograph isn’t great, but Louis knows his neck was covered in bite marks and bandages, even if you can’t see them all clearly.

The couch they’re laying on is leather.

When Louis closes his eyes, he can still feel the softness of the quality leather, can still see the small burn mark on the arm of it, the one that Luke accidentally made with a cigarette one night and then shattered a vase over because "that couch was fucking expensive," can still smell the lingering scent of cedarwood from Luke’s cologne that lingered all over everything in that room — the couch, the rug, the upholstered seat of his desk chair, even Louis, when he stayed over long enough.

Leather and the smell of cedarwood.

Louis sits there for another minute or two before laying the album down on the couch cushion next to him. He gets up and walks over to the door, bending down to put on the pair of sneakers he abandoned there a few days ago. He wrestles them onto his feet rather than taking the time to untie them, and as he does so, he sees Harry’s boots there, neatly lined up against the wall. 

Louis looks away.

He takes a moment to put his keys and phone in his back pocket, glances over his shoulder at his closed bedroom door, and slips out of the apartment as quietly as he can.


	7. Chapter Seven

Louis remembers the way to Luke’s house so easily that you would think the last time he was there was yesterday rather than more than a year ago. His home is a large standalone brownstone in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the district, and when the taxi pulls up outside, Louis doesn’t have to look in the mirror to know that a light goes out in his eyes.

There’s something about being back here that makes Louis think about how he felt back then. Luke was the first vampire he’d ever dated, and when he’d asked Louis to move in, Louis thought it would be a forever kind of thing. He thought that Luke loved him and that the inequalities in their relationship were perfectly normal and even expected in a vampire-human relationship. The way Luke treated him only got uglier with time, however, and it wasn’t long before the bad moments of the relationship strongly outnumbered the good.

Even though Louis was miserable with Luke, he believed it would get better. He continued fighting for their relationship because he thought that was what he should do, even if Luke wasn’t fighting for it at all. Every day Louis spent in this house would start with Louis feeling an overwhelming sense of hope that things would get better, and every night that Louis spent in this house would end with that hope extinguished. 

The day Louis snapped and Luke kicked him out, Louis packed his things in a few suitcases, walked out the front door, and called Zayn. Zayn must’ve broken every speed limit to get there, and when he did, he immediately pulled Louis into a hug right there on the curb with Luke watching them through the window

“I’m so proud of you, Lou,” he’d said, and Louis had given him a weak smile in response. At the time, Louis still wasn’t sure if snapping at Luke and coming clean about how awful he was being treated was the best decision of his life or the worst, but Zayn’s words had settled the anxiety in his stomach somewhat. 

After Zayn had thrown Louis’ suitcases into the back of his car one-handed, Louis got into the passenger seat and gave the brownstone house one last glance. And as they drove away, Louis remembers feeling a sense of overwhelming relief. 

It was raining that day, and in Louis’ mind’s eye, every rain droplet that hit the car window was there to cleanse him of everything that he had been with Luke. By the time they made it to Zayn’s building, Louis felt like he’d been wiped clean of everything Luke had believed him to be and everything he’d tried to be for Luke. 

He’d entered Zayn’s apartment that day knowing that he had a long way to go in terms of recovering from the damage that Luke inflicted on him, but still feeling like he was more himself than he'd been in a long time.

He thought he’d never have to set eyes on this brownstone again, but here he is.

Louis pays the taxi driver and thanks him profusely for getting him there so quickly. He has limited time if he wants to make it back before Harry wakes up, so every minute saved raises Louis’ chances of getting in and out of this without Harry reaping destruction across DC trying to find him. 

Louis tries to mentally prepare for interacting with Luke on his way up to the door, but there’s no real way to get ready. He planned out his story in the car on the way here, and now Louis just needs to grit his teeth and bear it. Not just bear it, but _succeed_. For the sake of all the victims, their families, their friends, Harry, and everyone else who has worked tirelessly on this case, Louis has to pull this off.

Louis stands in front of Luke’s front door for a solid minute before he has enough courage to knock. He didn’t really think about the possibility that Luke wouldn’t be home, but as he stands there waiting for the door to be opened, his palms begin to sweat at the possibility.

Louis knocks a second time, praying to whoever may be listening that Luke will open the door, and he’s just raised his fist to bang on the door one last time when the door swings open.

For a moment, Luke and Louis just stand there and stare at each other. Then Luke’s face changes into a slow smile, his fangs descending without second thought, and Louis forces himself to keep the look of disgust off his face.

“Hi,” he says breathlessly, hoping that it sounds more like he’s excited-nervous than shitting-his-pants-nervous.

Luke licks over his fangs slowly, forcing Louis to wait for his response. Louis isn’t sure whether he’s going to talk back or slam the door in his face, but he hopes desperately that it’s the former. He snuck away from Harry while he slept and he’ll be getting more than an earful because of that later, so he needs this to be worth it.

“What brings you into my neck of the woods, sweetheart?” Luke asks, and he doesn’t sound angry, which is probably a good sign. He sounds amused and overconfident, which is the perfect combination of emotions for Louis to exploit.

“I wanted to see you,” Louis says, looking down at his feet as though he’s embarrassed. It’s hard for Louis to remember what it was like to be so passive and afraid, but he hopes that it’s been long enough since Luke saw him act this way that he won’t be able to tell the difference between an act and the real thing.

Luke makes a considering noise. “Nice try, Louis, but I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’re dating that detective prick, Harry Styles,” he spits the name out like it tastes bad on his tongue, and Louis bites his lip. He’s not a drama teacher for nothing, and now it’s time to bring out the big guns.

“No,” Louis says. He hesitates, forcing his eyes to well up slightly and blinking rapidly to add to the effect. “We’re not. Anymore. He dumped me earlier and I...”

Louis trails off, looking down again, and Luke takes a step forward to join Louis on the front porch of the house. He lifts Louis’ chin roughly, forcing Louis to look up at him, and Louis’ stomach rolls at the feeling of Luke’s hands on his skin. 

“And your pathetic self decided to come crawling back to me on your hands and knees, didn’t you?” Luke asks in a mocking tone. 

The watering of Louis’ eyes is more real now, but he continues playing the role he came here to play. 

“I thought he was different,” Louis says, apologizing profusely to Harry inside his head for what he’s about to say. “I thought that he would treat me like an equal, but I — I couldn’t have been more wrong. And I should have called Zayn, maybe, or Liam, but...” 

Louis trails off again, biting his lip and watching as Luke’s eyes follow the movement.

“But you wanted me, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Luke says, and Louis nods. 

“You were right,” Louis whispers timidly, reaching out his hand and forcing himself to touch Luke’s chest. “You were right all along and I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out before. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

Even saying these words makes Louis want to vomit at their feet, but he forces himself to say them, forces himself to keep his tone convincing, forces himself not to do any of his usual tells that show people he’s lying. There is no room for mistakes and Louis knows that. He’s not going to fuck this up.

Luke hums before taking his hands and running them down Louis shoulders and arms in what he probably thinks is considered a soothing gesture. Maybe it would be if someone else was doing it, but because it’s Luke, Louis feels the urge to slap the wandering hands off his body. And to burn the clothes he touched.

Instead, he forces himself to stand there, and when Luke gestures for Louis to follow him inside, he goes. 

Louis makes a show of looking around the house as though he’s gauging what’s changed and what’s stayed the same in the time since Louis moved out. Luke watches him, fangs still out, and doesn’t say anything as Louis runs his fingers along the moldings on the furniture in the foyer.

“I missed this place,” he lies, hoping that his voice sounds awed. In all honestly, being back in this house makes Louis wish he were at his apartment, or at Harry’s apartment, or pretty much anywhere else. 

Anywhere but here. 

“It missed you back,” Luke says, his voice menacing instead of kind, and when Louis glances over at him, he can see the vampire’s eyes are scanning up and down his body hungrily, as though he’s nothing more than a piece of meat being catalogued in Luke’s mind for how much blood and fucking he can get out of it. Louis almost flinches visibly at that look on his face, but he catches himself.

“Is the basement still the same?” Louis asks, voice curious. The basement was Luke’s office and where he and Louis ended up spending much of their time when they were home, and Louis knows that asking about it won’t be considered suspicious for that reason. If Louis’ act was real and he really did want to come back to Luke, he knows that the basement would be the first place in the house that he would want to see again. 

“Do you want to see for yourself?” Luke asks, and those are the exact words that Louis came to hear.

Louis nods and gives what he hopes looks like a shy smile, once again forcing himself not to flinch when Luke wraps an arm around his shoulder and roughly leads him to the basement stairs. 

The difference between how Luke touches him and how Harry touches him could not be greater, and Louis has a whole new level of appreciation for how gentle Harry is with him even when Louis doesn’t notice it. He wonders how much self-control it requires for Harry to always touch him like he’s something special, something to be handled with care, when Harry’s strength is so overwhelming in comparison to Louis’. Even when Harry gets rough with him because Louis wants him to, it’s nothing like this. 

When he and Luke reach the bottom step, Louis’ nose is immediately overwhelmed by the scent of cedarwood, which he knows comes from the cologne that Luke always keeps on his work desk. 

The room looks almost exactly as it did the last time Louis was here, and yet, standing there feels so different. Maybe because Louis is so different.

 _This is where Luke kept the drugged victims before he shipped them off,_ Louis thinks. He suppresses a dry heave at the thought.

Louis makes a show of walking around the room, eyes scanning the books lining the shelves, the knick-knacks arranged messily around his Mac on the top of the desk, the throw pillows scattered around the couch. He tries to look at things with an expression that signals fondness, though the thought of what Luke’s been doing in here over the past several months makes him sick to his stomach.

Luke comes up behind Louis suddenly, startling him, and his hands take firm grip of Louis’ hips. 

“So when are we getting to the main event,” Luke says suddenly, somehow tightening his hold on Louis’ hips further. Louis expects that it’ll bruise. “Or main course, in my case.” The breath on the back of Louis’ neck sends goosebumps rising across his skin. They aren’t the good kind.

Louis turns around, resting his hands on Luke’s chest awkwardly. 

“We’ll get to the main event when you get condoms,” Louis says, voice sickly sweet.

Luke rolls his eyes immediately, just as Louis expected him to. 

“You can’t be serious,” he says, retracting his fangs for a moment and huffing in annoyance. 

“You know how I am, babe,” Louis says. “You must have some lying around here somewhere.” 

He knows Luke doesn’t.

“I don’t,” Luke confirms, dropping his hands from Louis’ hips. “I can run to the drug store down the street though. It won’t take me more than five minutes if I use my speed.” He sounds thoughtful.

Louis’ mouth stretches into the first genuine grin of the night. 

“Perfect,” he says. “I’ll be here waiting.” With that, Louis walks over and sprawls out on the couch, hoping that he’s making himself look at least a little bit sexually appealing. He tilts his head to expose more of his neck in Luke’s direction, and when Luke’s fangs descend again, he knows he’s succeeded.

“Alright, be right back,” Luke says, bolting up the stares and vanishing in a blur. Louis hears the front door open and slam closed, and as soon as he’s confident that Luke is out of the house, he gets up from the couch and walks over to Luke’s desk, suddenly overwhelmed by how large it is.

Louis knows there is probably plenty of evidence against him on his computer, but he has no idea what the password is, and besides, he doesn’t think he’ll need it. The nice thing about vampires that are old as fuck like Luke is that even as they learn new technologies, they often don’t trust them. Luke has always been that way, and that’s why he keeps a paper trail of everything. Everything.

Louis opens the top drawer and reaches underneath it, fingers quickly feeling the key that’s taped there. There’s just enough space for the key to fit beneath the drawer without interfering with the drawer sliding back into desk smoothly, and it’s a clever hiding spot. Louis is the one who suggested Luke keep it there back when they were still together because he figured it was close enough to be convenient, while still being hard enough to find that nobody would stumble upon it accidentally or think of it as a possible hiding place. 

Louis had a feeling that Luke wouldn’t move it, and he’s grateful to know that he was right. He yanks the tape off the key so it will drop into his hand and immediately moves it down to try and unlock one of the locked drawers of the desk. The drawer unlocks without difficulty, the powers that be apparently well aware that time is of the essence at the moment, and when Louis slides it open, his eyes fall on a stack of papers. 

Louis pulls them out and begins thumbing through them, but all he sees are bank statements and instruction manuals. He’s starting to sweat slightly, nervous that he’s taking too long, but after a few more seconds, he decides that this drawer is definitely not going to provide what he needs. He stuffs the stack of papers back into the drawer messily, closes it, and locks it before moving to the second locked drawer on the other side. 

When Louis slides it open, he is immediately faced with a photograph of a young woman. She looks to be about 25 years old or so, and Louis can tell that she’s drugged and barely conscious in the photo. Her eyes are half lidded and she looks disoriented, and Louis only has to study the photograph before he realizes that it’s the woman who was taken this past weekend from the bar.

Jackpot.

Louis pulls the stack of papers out of the drawer and begins skimming through them. At first, all he flips through are photographs, but when he finally reaches a normal piece of paper without a person’s face on it, he sees exactly what he’s looking for.

It’s a spreadsheet, and as Louis’ eyes skim over the information on it, he feels his heartbeat increase further. 

In the first column are the first and last names of the kidnapping victims — Louis sees names that he recognizes, including Sam Teasdale’s sister, whose name is Louise, as well as Greg, Jesy, and others he’d seen on the news in past weeks. The second column features their aliases, which Louis assumes are the names that they’re known by after they’re transported to avoid anyone getting suspicious. The third column lists the contacts who transported the victims (and Louis looks forward to seeing all of those people going to prison), the fourth column lists the town and state that they were sent to, the fifth column lists the price they were sold at, and the sixth column lists the buyer (another group of people that Louis looks forward to seeing go to prison). 

When Louis’ scanned the entire spreadsheet, his mouth gapes open in shock at the fact that he actually found what he was looking for. Fuck. He’s going to bring this information back to Harry, and Harry will be able to bring these poor people home. Finally, this case from hell will be closed, and the victims will be okay.

Louis reaches into his back pocket and fumbles around for a second, suddenly regretting how tight his jeggings are, before pulling out his cell phone. His hands are so clammy that his phone won’t register his fingerprint, but Louis can take photos without unlocking his phone, so he does that. He makes sure that every column is visible in the photos, not wanting to miss any of the information.

Louis isn’t really sure how giving this evidence to Harry will work, to be honest, but he knows that this is the only option if they wanted to catch Luke unless they caught him in the act — which has obviously proven to be impossible so far. Louis has watched enough police shows to know that telling Harry what Luke’s basement looks like is not enough to motivate a judge signing a warrant, but now, Luke let Louis into his home himself. Louis isn’t going to steal anything because he took photos, and even if the photos can’t be used as evidence, Harry and the department can use the information to find the victims and the victims can implicate Luke.

No matter what, this ends with Luke in custody. This ends with Harry getting a full night’s rest and no longer worrying himself to death or possibly putting himself into dangerous situations in the hopes of bringing the culprit to justice. This ends with the victims safe at home. That’s why Louis had to do it. 

When Louis finishes taking the photos, he knows he doesn’t have more than a minute before he’s at risk of being caught by Luke. He puts the spreadsheet back in the drawer and covers it up with all of the photographs. They’re out of order now, but Louis doesn’t bother trying to fix them — instead, he simply makes sure the most recent victim’s photograph is on the top of the pile so that if Luke were to glance in the drawer, nothing would seem amiss. 

When everything is back in the drawer, Louis slams it closed and gets to his feet. There’s a tape dispenser on the desk, so Louis rips off a piece and sticks it to the key before shoving it under the top drawer. He’s pretty sure he’s not sticking it exactly where Luke had it, but Louis doesn’t have time to worry about that.

That’s when Louis hears the front door open. His rapid heartbeat comes to an abrupt halt, but Louis doesn’t have time to freeze entirely, so he immediately snaps into action, hitting the top drawer with his hip to close it and running to the couch. When Luke makes it down the stairs, Louis is back on the couch, sitting there innocently and praying that Luke won’t realize that he’s sweaty and out of sorts. 

“Got ‘em,” Luke says when he comes to a stop in front of the couch, a box of condoms in his hand. 

Louis gives him a tight smile and Luke immediately narrows his eyes.

“What?” Luke asks, his voice already annoyed.

Louis gets to his feet and rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans. 

“Sorry,” he begins timidly. “I just — I’m so mixed up right now. And I don’t know if I’m ready to sleep with you yet.”

Luke throws the condoms across the room out of rage and gets right up into Louis’ face. He’s much taller than Louis, and Louis can’t deny that when he gets like this, it’s terrifying, but Louis has dealt with Luke when he’s like this before. He knows exactly how to play it. 

“Luke, I’m sorry, I just...” 

He trails off and touches Luke’s chest gently. “I need to get my head together. Can I come over tomorrow? I promise I won’t need more than the night to figure my shit out. I was so emotional after Harry ended things and I wanted to see you, and I probably should have waited until I was ready, but I didn’t. I’m so sorry.”

Louis wraps his arms around Luke and buries his face in his chest. After a few seconds, Luke sighs and hugs him back. His arms feel all wrong around Louis, but he tries to ignore it.

“Tomorrow?” Luke says, pulling back. His grip on Louis is too tight, but Louis pretends not to notice.

“Yes,” he says, suddenly very grateful that Luke has never been into kissing unless someone begs him for it. He has two uses for his mouth — biting and spewing his nastiness, so kissing has never fit into the mix. If he had been big on kissing, Louis isn’t sure that he would have been able to pull this off.

“I’ll see you, babe,” Louis says, grabbing his phone where it fell out of his pocket on the couch when he rushed over. He touches Luke on the shoulder before walking away.

Luke grunts in response and Louis hears him throw himself down on the couch, probably irritated by the fact that his sexual frustration will not be satisfied tonight, but Louis keeps walking. He takes the stairs to the first floor at a casual pace, taking care to act like he’s in no particular rush. 

When he reaches the foyer, he takes a deep breath to collect himself before leaving the house. He did it. He fucking did it, and Harry is going to murder him, but once his rage dies down, he’s going to be so fucking happy.

Louis can’t help but smile to himself at the thought as he reaches for the doorknob. 

“Not so fast, you conniving little bastard,” a voice says behind him, and Louis’ blood runs cold. 

Louis’ hand makes contact with the doorknob, but a hand immediately lands on his arm and spins him around so quickly that it’s disorienting. Louis barely has time to get his bearings before Luke backhands him across the face with enough force to send him flying into the small side table and plant that sits just beside the front door of the house. 

For someone who has been compared to a cat on more than one occasion, Louis does not land gracefully. At all. He hits the furniture and falls to the ground painfully, crying out in surprise, and Luke is immediately standing over him.

“You left the top drawer open an inch, sweetheart, and the key was definitely not where I left it,” Luke says, squatting down so he can spit the words in Louis’ face.

“Fuck,” Louis says. It’s the only word he can think of to say.

“If I find out that your little detective put you up to this, I swear to god, I will kill him while you watch,” Luke threatens, his voice low, and Louis is crying now, but he shakes his head violently.

“He didn’t,” Louis chokes out. “He didn't even know I was coming here, I promise you.” 

Luke stares at him, but Louis knows the truth is showing in his eyes. That doesn’t gain him any sympathy, of course, and Louis can’t say he’s surprised when Luke drags him up to his feet. 

“Well, what am I going to do with you?” Luke asks, running his finger over Louis’ cheek.

Louis shakes his head, seconds away from begging for his life, but he doesn’t have to.

The front door bursts open just as Luke lifts Louis off the ground with the clear intent to throw him against the opposite wall. It’s Harry who comes through the door first, immediately followed by Jeff and Perrie, and for a moment, Louis thinks he’s hallucinating.

Then Luke carries through with his original plan and throws Louis back against the wall, and as he collapses to the ground, groaning at the pain radiating through his back, he has a front row seat to seeing Luke tackled to the ground by Jeff and Harry. They force his head down and cuff him easily, as Luke is no match for the two of them and a pair of silver handcuffs that weaken vampires significantly. Louis can hear Luke spewing venom about him and Harry until Jeff steps on the back of his head, forcing his face harder into the wood floors and shutting him up, at least for the moment. 

Louis has barely registered what he just witnessed, too distracted by the pain in his body and the shock of everything moving so fast, but Perrie comes over to him immediately and kneels in front of him.

“Lou, hun, are you okay? What happened?” Louis just waves his hand in the air and shakes his head, not able to find the words to describe the events of the last few minutes quite yet. He remembers Harry mentioning that Perrie has paramedic training, so he’s sure she’ll figure out that he’s not hurt that badly very quickly. 

While she prods at him, checking his bruises and cuts, Louis watches Jeff drag a handcuffed Luke out the front door of the house. Harry doesn’t follow them out, so Louis assumes there are more officers waiting outside to ensure that Luke isn’t able to somehow run off.

Harry takes a few steps toward Louis and Perrie, but he doesn’t say anything, instead simply stopping and staying standing there, watching intently as Perrie checks Louis over.

Perrie is talking to him and checking to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion, but Louis doesn’t take his eyes off Harry even as he answers. Finally, Perrie stops prodding at him and helps him to his feet. 

“You’re okay,” she says. “But you should probably go to the hospital just to double check.” 

Louis shakes his head, still not taking his eyes off his boyfriend. “I’m fine,” Louis says. “And I’ll be fine. A little sore, probably, but it’s nothing serious.” Louis sees Harry huff in annoyance at that statement, but he ignores him in favor of thanking Perrie for her help.

“Of course, Lou,” she says, patting him gently on the shoulder. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” 

She exits the house at a normal human speed, but they’re still alone within a few seconds. Harry closes the door behind her and leans against it in a pose that’s deceptively casual. A muscle in his jaw twitches, and Louis winces at the sight.

“How’d you know I was here?” Louis asks, and that probably isn’t what he should have started with, but it’s too late to take the words back now. Harry’s jaw twitches a second time.

“You left your photo album open,” Harry says, and Louis bites his lip at the barely concealed rage in his voice. “I saw the picture of you two in the basement and realized what you must have done, so I texted Jeff and had him look up Luke’s address. I arrived here just as they did and heard him throw you the first time.”

Harry looks pained as he says that, and Louis looks down. This time, he’s not playing timid for Luke — he’s actually ashamed. The last thing that Louis wanted to do was to make Harry afraid or angry, but he doesn’t regret doing what he did. If Louis hadn’t come here, they’d be no closer to locking Luke away. Louis didn’t anticipate being caught and throw around so violently, of course, but he still succeeded in his mission.

“I know where all the victims are,” Louis says softly, and to his surprise, Harry’s frown only deepens at that. 

Louis sees his phone on the floor right by where it fell out of his pocket when Luke threw him the first time, so he reaches down to pick it up. It only takes him a second to pull up the photos of the spreadsheet, and he closes the short distance to Harry cautiously and holds the phone screen up to him. Harry takes the phone from Louis and reads through the photographs quickly, flipping from one to another.

“Louis,” Harry says finally, handing Louis back his phone.

Louis holds up his hands to stop Harry’s lecture before it starts. “I knew that this was something I could do to get the information you needed. You had no basis on which to get a warrant, Harry! You had no way to catch him, but I knew I could do it. And I know it got fucked up in the end, but now you can look at those pictures and bring all those people home, right?” Louis takes the last step to close the distance between them and takes Harry’s face in his hands. 

Harry still looks frustrated, but Louis can tell that he’s melting at Louis’ touch. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Louis says finally, leaning in to kiss Harry quickly on the lips. Harry responds, apparently unable to resist Louis even when he’s angry, but when Louis pulls back, Harry seems to realize what he just said.

“That’s not what you should be apologizing for,” Harry says. He shoves his hands in his pockets, and Louis can tell he’s doing that to stop himself from pulling Louis into his arms. “Louis, you put your life at risk. Why couldn’t you just talk to me so we could figure this out together? Why would you ever think that it was a good idea to fucking sneak out on me while I’m asleep?”

He sounds overwhelmed by frustration, and Louis sighs. 

“If I’d talked to you about it, you would’ve taken to following Luke around the city so you could catch him in the act because that’s the only way you would’ve gotten reason to arrest him without me. Luke is older than you by like a century. You realize that, right? It would’ve ended in a fight, you know it would’ve, and you could’ve gotten hurt or killed, and why would I let that happen when I could get him to let me into his fucking house without even really trying?” 

Harry groans and buries his face in his hands. 

“Louis, I don’t need you to protect me from doing my job,” he says, and his voice is muffled because he’s speaking into his hands, but the words are clear enough. 

Louis crosses his arms in front of him, and Harry must sense the change of posture because he lifts his head up.

“Yes, I already know you don’t regret it,” Harry says, clearly irritated by Louis’ stubborn attitude. Too fucking bad. If Harry didn’t want stubborn Louis, he would have given up on pursuing him a long time ago. 

They’re both caught off guard by a knock on the door, and Harry immediately steps back and pulls it open. 

It’s Jeff.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jeff says, and the look on his face suggests that he’d rather stake himself than interrupt the conversation Louis and Harry are having right now, but he was clearly ordered to. “We’ve got a warrant — judge just signed it because Luke attacked Louis. The officers who are gonna search the place just arrived, but James wants you and I at the station to get the report started.”

Harry sighs and rubs his hand over his face tiredly. “Alright,” he agrees. “I’ll be out in a second.” 

Jeff nods and exits. He’s barely out the front door before Harry is pulling Louis into a tight hug. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he says finally. Louis holds Harry back tightly for a few seconds, breathing in the scent of his cologne after too many minutes of breathing nothing but the scent of cedarwood. 

When they pull back, Harry glances down at one of the visible bruises on Louis’ arm and frowns. 

“Go home and take a hot bath, okay? Make sure all your cuts are clean and I’ll come over as soon as I finish the report for James. And trust me when I say we’re going to be continuing this conversation when I get to your place.”

Louis makes an expression of distaste at that idea, but Harry makes a zipped lips gesture with his hand, clearly shutting down any protest from Louis for the time being.

Louis sighs. “The documents I found are in the bottom right drawer of his desk in the basement,” he explains, assuming that the people who search the house will appreciate their job being made a bit easier. “The key to open the drawer is taped to the bottom of the top drawer — not inside the drawer, but underneath it.”

Harry nods and glances over toward the basement door with a look of disdain.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m going to have Perrie bring you home now. I’ll tell James that you’ll file your witness report in the morning. He’ll be fine with that. And when you get home, remember what I said, alright?” 

Louis rolls his eyes, but nods anyway. He knows he already put Harry through a bit of hell tonight, and quite frankly, he plans to put him through more when he gets back from the police station later, so the least he can do is go with Perrie willingly. 

Harry wraps him up in another long hug before finally ushering him out of the house. Perrie is waiting at the curb right beside her police car, and she gives Louis a kind smile as he approaches.

Right before Louis gets in the passenger door of her car, he glances back at Harry. He’s standing in the doorway of Luke’s house watching them, and it’s a little unsettling to see him in a place that’s associated with so much pain and sadness for Louis, but his presence also makes Louis feel overwhelming safe. Just as it always does.

Louis gives him a small wave, and he can tell that Harry is still very annoyed with him and they’ll probably have a rather brutal argument later, but Harry still blows him a small kiss and waves back.

 

\--

 

Perrie seems to realize that Louis isn’t in the mood to talk on the way home, so she doesn’t push him. She mentions that the weather forecast is good for tomorrow and comments on the fact that she hasn’t been to Louis’ neighborhood of DC very much, and Louis just hums in response.

When the pull up to Louis and Niall’s building, Perrie walks up to his apartment with him. 

“It’ll be okay, Lou,” she says when they reach the door to his apartment. Louis just shrugs and looks down at his feet, suddenly feeling exhausted, though he’s pretty sure that it isn’t even 8PM yet. She pulls him in for a hug then, and Louis hugs back, letting himself sigh and sag into it a bit. He wishes it were Harry’s arms around him instead, but he knows this will have to do for now. When Harry comes home, he’ll probably end up lecturing Louis for three hours before they get back around to the hugging part, which Louis isn’t looking forward to, but deep down, he knows he deserves it.

“I’m going to go back to the station, but give me a call if you need anything, okay?” Perrie says, and Louis nods.

“Thanks, Perrie,” he says. 

She gives him a smile and squeezes him on the shoulder.

“I’ll try to talk Harry down a bit too,” she adds. Louis gives her a grateful look before waving goodbye and watching her walk down the hallway toward the elevator.

He turns to his door and unlocks it, immediately realizing that Niall still isn’t home. He’s grateful for that, honestly, because he needs some time to collect his thoughts and calm down before Harry comes back. 

All he wants to do is lay down in his bed and nap, but instead, Louis goes to the bathroom and flicks the switch, wincing at the brightness of the fluorescent lights. He makes eye contact with himself in the mirror and winces at his appearance — he wasn’t at Luke’s for long at all, but it still looks like he’s been through an ordeal. His hair is messed up from being thrown around and his skin is pale, circles looking far darker than they did even just before he and Harry laid down for the nap that Louis never ended up taking.

Louis sighs and inspects the damage. There are welts on Louis' arm from where Luke’s fingers dug in, and when he lifts his shirt, Louis can see several bruises across his ribs and stomach. When he turns around and gazes at his reflection over his shoulder, he can see a number of similar bruises forming on his back, interrupting the smooth tan skin with hues of purple and blue. 

Overall, though, Louis knows it could be much worse. All the visible evidence of Luke’s hands on his skin will fade within a week or so, and then hopefully Louis can try to forget the entire experience happened. He can forget that Luke was the one responsible for snatching so many people and forget that Louis ever knew him, dated him, thought he loved him — forget all of it. He wishes all of his memories with Luke would fade as quickly as the bruises, but he knows that’s not how it works. 

Louis rubs at his eyes tiredly and flicks off the bathroom light with every intention of going to his bedroom and burying himself under the covers until Harry returns, but he hears a knock on the door.

It startles him slightly, not having expected Harry to come back this early, but Louis quickly recovers and walks out to the living room. He pauses in front of the door to pull himself together and prepare for the fight he knows is coming.

Just get it over with, Louis thinks, steeling himself and pulling the door open.

It’s not Harry standing at the door. It’s Nick.

Louis frowns, confused, before a flood of dread fills his body. 

“Fuck,” he says, shaking his head slowly, unwilling to believe it. “Did something — did something happen to Harry?”

Nick looks surprised at the thought.

“No, god, no, sorry, Harry is fine. I just need to get your statement about what happened,” Nick explains, and Louis’ brows furrow. Harry had said it’d be fine to wait until the morning, but things change quickly with cases, he’s sure, so it’s not all that surprising that they need it sooner from him.

“Okay, yeah, of course,” Louis says. “We’re going to the station, right? ‘Cause I’ve gotta put on shoes.”

Nick rocks back and forth on his feet, hands deep in his pockets. He seems anxious, but Louis knows that he and Harry have been working on this case tirelessly for months, so they must be eager to wrap it up and bring all those innocent people home to their families, their friends, their lives.

“No, that’s alright,” Nick says. “I can just take your statement here.” He looks over Louis’ shoulder to his empty apartment curiously. “Is Niall home?” He asks.

Louis shakes his head. “No,” he replies, finally stepping aside and welcoming Nick in. “I’m not sure where he is, actually. Probably at Liam’s or some girl’s place.” 

When Nick steps inside the apartment, Louis closes the door behind him and starts walking toward the couch, figuring that’s the most comfortable place for them both to get this statement done. He assumes Nick is right behind him, but when Louis is about halfway between the door and the couch, he hears the click of a lock.

Louis spins around. Nick is standing in front of the door staring at Louis, eyes dark and fangs out.

“Nick?” Louis says cautiously. There are alarm bells going off inside his head.

“You’ve caused a lot of problems for me and my friend tonight, Louis,” Nick says, his voice casual, but icy cold. Louis feels a chill crawl its way down his spine and takes a step back. He doesn’t think the friend Nick is talking about is Harry.

“Your friend...” Louis says, trailing off. His mind is running a mile a minute as he tries to figure out what the fuck is going on, but he can’t seem to fit the pieces together.

_“I have a feeling that there are two people responsible, honestly, but I have no real reason to believe that other than my own gut instinct. I’d like to find some actual proof, but so far, there’s nothing at all. And I’m not going to bring my gut feeling to my partner or my boss when nothing supports it, you know?”_

Louis remembers Harry having said those words weeks ago, but Louis hadn’t paid much attention at the time. Harry didn’t have enough basis for his theory to even mention it to any other members of the police force, and Louis knows it was based on Harry’s instincts more than anything else. 

“You’re Luke’s accomplice,” Louis says, the pieces locking into place. While he speaks, he puts his hands behind his back, trying to make the gesture look as casual as possible. With one hand, however, he pulls his phone out of his back pocket and uses his thumbprint to unlock it.

Nick gives a bitter laugh. “Oh please, you idiot,” he says cruelly. “Luke is _my_ accomplice.”

He starts walking toward Louis then, not bothering with super speed. It’s more menacing this way, as Louis has to watch his slow approach knowing that there’s no way that he can outrun him, no way to escape. Louis takes several more steps back anyway, and that makes Nick’s smile widen.

“What’s that in your hand?” Nick asks, and Louis takes the split second opportunity for what it is, quickly bringing his phone up and managing to press two buttons before Nick swats it out of his hand. The phone falls to the floor loudly and Nick kicks it across the floor, sending it flying, but it doesn't shatter, and for one ridiculous moment, Louis pats himself on the back for having bought such a sturdy case for the phone. 

“No, no, no, Louis,” Nick says, standing just a foot in front of Louis and looking down at him mockingly. “It’s just going to be me and you here tonight. We definitely don’t need Harry or any of my other friends from the station figuring out what I’m up to.” 

Nick grabs Louis around the shoulders with bruising force and throws him backwards at the couch. Louis gasps in surprise as his body makes contact, though perhaps he should be used to being thrown around by now, and he falls backwards onto the cushions with a wince. Being thrown ten feet onto a couch may be better than being thrown into a wall or table, but it still doesn’t feel particularly nice.

“Why are you doing this?” Louis asks, and he isn’t just trying to prolong death or whatever other horrible fate Nick has planned for him. He’s genuinely baffled as to why Harry’s friend and partner, a member of the fucking police force, would participate in human trafficking. 

Nick laughs bitterly again before waking over to the dining area to grab one of the wooden chairs and pull it closer to the couch. He settles down in it comfortably, as though he and Louis are about to partake in a casual conversation about the weather, or the annoyances of neighbors, or the pros and cons of walking cats on leashes, rather than a conversation about why he’s been kidnapping people for months.

“I wanted to be the lead detective in the vampire-on-vampire crime unit,” Nick says. “It’s the only worthwhile unit in the department, if you think about it. I mean, who gives a fuck about what humans do to each other? And don’t get me started on the vampire-on-human crime unit. Humans are inferior to us in every way, so why should I go out of my way to lock up my own kind just because humans are too weak to deal with crimes committed against them by vampires on their own?”

Louis’ stomach rolls in disgust at Nick’s comments. He remembers how many times Luke echoed similar sentiments about how useless humans are, and though the words are equally ugly coming out of Nick’s mouth, he can’t deny that they’re also more shocking. 

“So first I was insulted by being passed over for the vampire-on-vampire crime unit, forcing me to work to lock away people who commit crimes against humans, and then the department decides to fuck me over one more time,” Nick says bitterly.

Louis doesn’t respond, instead waiting for Nick to explain himself. 

“They make Harry Styles, who is decades younger than me, the lead detective, and they make me his partner. Now don’t get me wrong,” Nick says. “Harry’s great. Funny, nice, hot as hell, but he is one of the worst excuses for a vampire I’ve ever seen.”

“And why is that?” Louis spits out, leaning forward on the couch. “Because he doesn’t treat humans like they’re below him?”

Nick chuckles, and Louis takes that as the confirmation it is.

“And so what,” Louis says, unable to keep the disgust out of his voice. “You met Luke somewhere along the way. Let me guess — at a bar, since that’s both of your favorite places to hang out.” Louis remembers something that Nick had said at Zayn’s apartment a while back, and suddenly it dawns on him. “You slept with Luke. He was the vampire you slept with months ago, and that’s when you guys decided to do this.”

“Ding ding ding,” Nick says obnoxiously, laughing again, and Louis grinds his teeth together. “I met Luke, and we fucked, and then when we were lying in bed afterwards, we talked about how irritated we were by the state of the world. He mentioned how he knew someone who was looking for two vampires to launch some human trafficking out of DC. Said the pay was great and the task was easy — just drug unsuspecting humans while they’re getting drunk at bars, snatch them, deliver them to a few vampires who do the transporting, and they’ll be sent wherever they’re wanted across the country.”

Nick follows Louis’ lead and leans forward in the chair he’s sitting in, propping his head on his hand and giving Louis a look that makes Louis think he’s laughing at him. 

“At first I wasn’t going to do it,” Nick says, shrugging. “I never had any interest in that kind of thing. But then I thought about this police department and how they fucked me over, and I thought about how devastating it would be to James Corden and Harry Styles and all the rest of them to have something like that running out of DC. All their hard work protecting humans, only to have people snatched up right under their noses? God,” Nick laughs. “I knew it would be so easy, and I’d have a front row seat to watching them sweat. So I said yes.”

Louis’ stomach turns ominously. 

“So basically, you just did it because you could,” Louis says, trying his best to keep his voice steady.

Nick moves his tongue along the sharp edges of fangs and smiles again.

“Yes. Does that make you angry?” Nick asks. 

Louis shakes his head. 

“Not angry, really. I’m disgusted by you,” He says. “And I can’t help but think about how pathetic you are.”

A laugh escapes Nick’s mouth, and for a second, if you ignored the fangs, he looks just like the person that Louis considered somewhat of a friend just hours ago. It’s scary how quickly your perspective of someone can change when they show themselves for who they really are.

“Do you think you’re hurting my feelings, you useless little human?” Nick asks incredulously. “I don’t give a shit what you think about me. You and your dolt of a boyfriend didn’t even realize what I was doing right under your fucking noses. _That’s_ what’s truly pathetic.”

“He would’ve figured it out eventually,” Louis says confidentially. “You’re not as slick as you think you are, and you’re far too cocky. Harry is smarter and better at his job than you are, remember? That’s why he got the lead detective position over you even though you’re older and stronger and have seniority over him. The signs were there, now that I think about it. You would’ve slipped up and Harry would’ve gotten you. There’s not a sliver of doubt in my mind.” 

As Louis speaks, he knows he’s right. Harry already figured out that it was probably two people, and he was always baffled as to how the traffickers always managed to avoid the police stationed at popular bars in the city, so he would’ve figured out eventually that it was because the kidnappers knew where the police would be and when, and the more Louis thinks about the time he’s spent with Nick and the things he’s learned about him, the more obvious it becomes. Harry would’ve figured it out. 

“It doesn’t matter though,” Nick says, getting to his feet. Louis gets up off the couch himself and starts taking slow steps away, putting a bit more distance between himself and Nick, though he knows his efforts are futile.

“Why is that?” Louis says. He’s standing behind the couch now, not too far from the door, but he knows Nick could reach him before he even reached the doorknob. He just stands there, waiting for Nick’s response.

“You made a grave miscalculation in your attempt to bring Luke down today,” Nick explains. “So I’m going to get rid of you. You’re being picked up in an hour and sent somewhere in the mid-west. You will be sold to someone who will use you as their own personal blood bag, and you will never see Harry, or your family, or anyone else you care about ever again. And I will break Luke out of prison tonight, so neither one of us will have to go down for this.”

Louis shivers, can’t help himself, and Nick smirks when he sees the effect he’s had.

“It’s going to be so fun to watch Harry’s devastation when he realizes you’re gone,” Nick says. 

Louis thinks about Harry coming back to his apartment and finding it empty. He wonders whether Harry will realize he’s been taken right away, or whether he’ll look around for a bit, thinking that maybe Louis just went for a walk, or wants to give him the silent treatment, or went home to visit his mom and get away from everything that’s happened. 

He wonders how long it will take Harry’s undead heart to stutter in its rhythm upon making the realization that Louis is gone somewhere that Harry might not ever be able to find him, and that the only person they had in custody has escaped, and that there are no answers everywhere he turns, only more questions.

Louis watches Nick pick up the wooden dining chair and begin to move it back to the table. Nick’s back turns away from Louis, just for a moment, and he knows he won’t be able to make it, but he also knows he’ll never forgive himself if he doesn’t at least try.

He runs. He runs to the door with his hand out, ready to turn the lock, and he hopes that he can at least make it to the hallway where he can scream loud enough that one of the neighbors will hear and call the police. For once, Louis is resentful of the fact that the walls of his building are so well sealed, so much so that neighbors can rarely hear each other.

Louis doesn’t even get within five feet of the door before he’s thrown against the bookcase.

He barely feels the pain of it, honestly, and instead, ridiculously enough, his first instinct is to wonder whether the force of hitting it will make the bookcase fall forward on top of him. It’s probably not heavy enough to kill him, but it still wouldn’t feel too great. The bookcase simply rocks a bit, however, as Louis collapses in a heap in front of it, and a few books come tumbling down around him. He thinks there might be blood on the back of his head, but he doesn't bother reaching up to check. 

“Did you seriously think that was a good idea?” Nick asks, yanking Louis up by the throat and pining him against the wall with one hand, feet dangling inches off the ground. He sounds shocked that Louis would even make an attempt to make a suicide mission attempt to escape, but Louis isn’t one to take things lying down.

Nick’s hands are tight around his throat, cutting off his air supply, and Louis chokes, hands pulling desperately at Nick’s hand, trying to get him off. He can’t even speak to respond to Nick’s question, too busy trying to breathe, and Nick doesn’t let go. He doesn’t let go for long enough that Louis can feel the pressure building in his head, knows he’s turning red in the face, and he wonders whether this is it. Whether Nick will not bother going through the trouble of shipping him off and will just strangle him to death. 

The longer Nick holds him, the harder it is for Louis’ brain to even process what’s happening. All Louis can focus on is the feeling of the hand around his neck and the black dots coloring his vision.

Nick drops him. Louis’ hands goes out instinctively to break his fall, and he cries out when he lands heavily on one wrist, sending a shooting pain through it and up his arm.

“Fuck,” Louis mutters, and he barely has time to recover from the trauma before Nick is picking him up and throwing him against one of the tables beside the couch. Louis goes tumbling over it, taking down a lamp and several geode coasters that he spent a fortune on. He lands on his ass on the other side, no time to even think to put down his arms to protect himself, and Louis is grateful for that small miracle considering the pain he knows he would experience if he landed on his wrist again.

“You know,” Nick says from where he’s standing by the bookcase still, eyes dark and uncaring. “Harry used to talk about you all the time before you got together. He still does, obviously, never fucking shuts up about you, but when you first met and slept together, he’d go on and on and on about how pretty you were. You were something beautiful and precious and meant to be treated like you were made of glass. Like a glass doll.” 

Louis swallows, not liking where this is headed. It’s hard for him to even focus on what Nick’s saying with the overwhelming feeling of pain radiating from every inch of his body.

“But you know the thing about glass dolls?” Nick asks, walking forward, and Louis tries to scoot backwards, but there’s nowhere to go, and it hurts too much to move anyway. 

“They break,” Louis answers, voice hoarse.

Nick smiles again. 

“Exactly.” 

He walks over and stands beside where Louis has fallen, gazing down.

“You know, Harry also goes on and on about how you taste,” Nick says thoughtfully. Louis tenses. “Maybe I should have a sip. See if he was exaggerating, you know?” 

Louis’ hands fly up to his neck and he shakes his head desperately. _Anything but that, please,_ he thinks.

Nick lifts him up off the floor with two hands under his armpits, not bothering to be gentle, and Louis cries out again from the pain of being handled so roughly when he's so injured. When he’s been pulled into a standing position, Nick looks at him, grinning ear to ear. His fangs are still out, but they somehow look even more menacing now than they did earlier. Louis swallows and shakes his head.

Nick is leaning in when a knock at the door stops him, startling them both. Before Louis even has the chance to think about saying something, shouting something, begging for help, Nick pulls Louis in front of him, one arm curled around Louis’ neck loosely, the other hand covering his mouth so tightly that Louis can’t feel his lips.

There’s another knock.

“Louis?” Harry’s voice asks, and Louis feels his body sag with relief. Nick holds him in a standing position and presses his hand against Louis’ mouth even more firmly. He also tightens the arm around Louis’ neck, making it clear that if he even tries to make a sound, Nick won’t hesitate to end his life. 

_Harry, please break in,_ Louis thinks. 

Harry speaks again, and Louis can hear just from his voice that he has his forehead pressed against the door. He probably looks exhausted, and Louis thinks about how this reunion should have gone. He would have opened the door grumpily, and they would have fought for a while, and Harry would have hugged him, and they would have whispered sweet nothings and reassurances to each other, and finally, Harry would have carried him to bed so they could wrap their limbs around each other and sleep off everything that happened, knowing that it would all be better in the morning.

That’s how it should be.

Harry’s voice flows through the door again. 

“Lou, baby, please let me in. I’m not going to yell at you, okay? I promise. I’m just fucking tired and after what almost happened, I don’t want to sleep without you tonight. Please let me in.” 

Louis can hear the pleading tone to Harry’s voice, and his heart aches. 

Louis is crying silently now, tears dripping down his face and wetting Nick’s hand where it’s pressed over his mouth. Half of him is internally begging that Harry figure out that Nick has him, to come save the day, and the other half of him wants Harry to leave the building, return to his car, and drive away so he stays safe. Louis got himself into this mess, and the thought of Harry getting hurt as a result is unbearable.

“Lou?” Harry asks again, an odd tone to his voice. 

He actually thinks Louis is upset and ignoring him, and even though Harry’s feelings should be the least of Louis’ worries right now, Louis wishes desperately to reassure him. 

When Harry gives an audible sigh, Louis squeezes his eyes closed. Behind his eyelids, he sees a childish fantasy play itself out. He pictures himself experiencing a burst of adrenaline, enough that it gives him the strength to throw Nick off. He pictures himself running to the door and flinging it open just as Harry gives up on trying to get Louis to let him in and turns to walk back down the stairs. He pictures Harry’s face lighting up as he turns around and sees Louis standing there, bloody, bruised, and broken, but most importantly, alive. He pictures Harry closing the gap between them in a couple of steps and lifting Louis off the floor, spinning him around as they both forget Louis’ injuries for a minute, and kissing him on the lips. He pictures what he would say to Harry when they finally broke away. 

He has so much left to say.

When Louis hears Harry’s booted footsteps turning and walking down the stairs, the last remnants of his fantasy fade into darkness. He listens as the front door of the building opens and slams closed, and Louis lets out a choked sob, reopening his eyes and allowing them to adjust to the dim lighting of the room once more. Nick’s hand over his mouth muffles the sound of his sob, and Nick simply gives a low chuckle in his ear in response.

“Just me and you now,” Nick says, finally removing his hand from Louis’ mouth and stepping away from him.

Louis doesn’t have the strength left to hold himself up, and as soon as Nick’s hands are off him, his body collapses. He hits the floor hard, landing on his knees, and when his hands reach out to break his fall, another sharp pain radiates through his broken wrist. Louis gasps in pain. 

“God, it’s gonna be annoying to have to comfort Harry when he’s whining about your disappearance,” Nick says, and Louis feels a surge of anger at Nick over the fact that he dares to even speak Harry’s name. “Once he realizes you’re gone, of course, since right now he probably thinks that you’re being a difficult little bitch as always by ignoring him.” 

Nick digs his foot into Louis’ ribs, which are almost certainly broken, making him cry out in pain again, and then makes his way across the room to the kitchen. “Do you have any beer in here?” He asks casually, as though he didn’t just finish throwing Louis around and strangling him. The good news is that he seems to have forgotten about his mission to bite Louis, but Louis is having trouble feeling grateful for even that victory at the moment. 

“I want to wait until the coast is totally clear of your overprotective boyfriend before I move you to your next destination, but I might as well have a beer while I wait,” Nick says.

The tears are coming out faster now, and Louis can tell that his breathing is much shorter and faster than it should be. Rather than being dulled by pain and shock, it’s like his senses have been magnified. With excessive clarity, Louis hears the clink of a bottle being opened in the kitchen, tastes the metallic tang of blood from his lip, and feels the sharp pain from his cuts, bruises, and broken bones. 

For a brief moment, Louis wishes desperately that Nick would come back into the room and knock him unconscious or kill him, anything to stop him from feeling this. Anything to stop the pain. 

He wants to get up and fight back, wants that more than anything, but he’s too goddamn tired. He can barely make himself do anything other than curl tighter into himself and blink away the wetness around his eyes.

Louis thinks about the first time he saw Harry, standing like a dream in front of him at the club when Louis wanted nothing more than a way to relieve stress from work. He thinks about Harry coming out onto the balcony at the right moment, dismissing the vampire harassing Louis without having to do much more than stand there. He thinks about the club the following week when Luke got too close, and Harry was there a split second later, pulling Louis away. He thinks about when he was sick in the bathroom, longing for someone to comfort him, and Harry carried him and brought him soup without question or complaint. He thinks about Harry’s gentle, kind, and yes, often infuriating presence during these past few months, day after day after day, patiently waiting for Louis to warm up to him.

Louis knows deep into his bones that he got lucky with Harry, the noble vampire who is never too much or too little, always just enough, always just what Louis needs exactly when he needs it.

Louis squeezes his eyes closed and feels an ache in his chest that has nothing to do with his broken ribs.

 _It was bound to happen eventually,_ Louis thinks to himself. His luck finally ran out.


	8. Chapter Eight

Louis is trying to focus very hard on breathing. The deep breaths send sharp shooting pain through his ribs, but they’re helping him to stay calm and they’re keeping his dizziness at a reasonable level. 

Nick is talking to someone on the phone in the kitchen, voice loud and casual, as though he didn’t just throw Louis around like he’s nothing more than a ragdoll, and Louis is trying to convince himself to make another attempt to run. He knows it will probably end in disaster, either further injury or death, but he can’t just wait here to be shipped off. 

He has to fight back.

He’s trying to gauge the distance to the door and how quickly he can make it there with all of his injuries when it bursts open, someone on the other side pushing it with enough force that the lock breaks right off. Louis flinches back, eyes closing and hands coming forward to protect his face instinctively.

When he opens his eyes a beat later, however, he sees who’s standing there.

It’s Harry. 

He came back. Louis doesn’t know if he knew what was happening all along or he just realized or he just coincidentally burst through the door, but whatever it was, whatever the reason, he’s here. Louis feels the euphoric rush of relief fill his body.

“Harry,” he breathes out. 

Harry’s body is tense and his eyes are dark from across the room, but as soon as he hears Louis whisper, Louis sees him giving a visible sigh of relief of his own. 

Nick reenters the room from the kitchen slowly, an uneasy smile on his face. Louis sees that he left his beer in the kitchen and hung up the phone, as his hands are up in a peaceful gesture of surrender.

“Harry, I was just about to call you,” Nick says. 

Harry doesn’t reply, but his eyes keep moving between Nick and Louis as though he’s trying to gauge the situation. The next time Harry glances back at him, Louis makes sure Nick’s attention is focused on Harry and then gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head. 

Without acknowledging Louis, Harry speaks. 

“What happened here?” He asks. He sounds genuinely curious rather than accusatory, and fear floods Louis’ back into chest. He knows that Harry and Nick have been partners for a while, and though he knows Harry would usually trust what Louis has to say, he’s not sure whether they’ve known each other or been together long enough for his word to outweigh whatever story Nick is about to offer him.

Harry has made no move to help Louis yet either, though he’s visibly injured, and Louis feels his heart rate start to increase again, the fear spreading.

“Fuck,” Louis whispers to himself, forgetting for a moment that Harry and Nick can definitely hear him. Nick makes no acknowledgment, but Louis sees Harry’s hand curl into a fist before immediately uncurling.

“I got the texts from Perrie about what happened with Louis’ ex,” Nick explains, and Louis feels sick to his stomach. “I figured you’d still be at the crime scene, so I wanted to come by and make sure Louis was doing okay. Somebody was in the apartment when I got here, but they bolted. I have no idea who it was, but Louis was so disoriented when I got here, and when you knocked on the door, he told me he didn’t want you to see him like this. He’s been talking a lot of nonsense, so I think he might have a concussion or something. I figured I’d just call you and have you meet us at the hospital.” Nick glances over at Louis with a look of faux concern, and Louis wants to vomit on the floor.

Louis wants to speak, wants to contradict Nick’s story, but he can’t make the words come out. 

“Lou?” Harry finally asks after a long pause. “What happened?” 

He doesn’t move where he’s standing between Nick and the door. 

Nick glances over at Louis, eyes flashing, and Louis sees his teeth descend threateningly for a few seconds before retreating. Louis hesitates, suddenly unsure whether telling the truth will put Harry at risk. Nick is older than Harry, and though he imagines that it would be a fairly evenly matched fight, Louis isn’t willing to bet on Harry’s life and lose.

“Yeah,” Louis says. “It’s what Nick said, basically.” He tries desperately to think of a story that’s convincing, but his mind is too overwhelmed with fear and pain to think of anything quickly enough. “I, uh—“

Nick cuts him off. “I’m gonna go call an ambulance, alright? I’m not getting service in here, so I’ll just step out for a second while Louis fills you in, okay?” He walks forward and steps around Harry carefully, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and Louis is just about to speak up, unwilling to allow this monster to escape, but Harry acts first.

Harry’s grabs Nick’s wrist just as he passes him, and with a motion that to Louis’ eyes, looks like nothing more than a slight tug, he pulls Nick toward him and then throws him back against the door, slamming it closed with his body before he falls to the ground. Louis gasps in surprise, but nobody acknowledges him. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Harry says, his tone far too even. 

“What the fuck was that, Harry?” Nick asks, doing his best to sound shocked while still keeping a joking tone to his voice.

Harry gives a low chuckle.

“You’ve known me for what, two decades now? But you still thought I’d buy that story. I think I should be insulted, actually, but I’ll admit that rage is ebbing out most other emotions at this point.” 

Nick laughs nervously, but stays in his place on the floor. It seems as though he thinks he’ll reinforce Harry’s belief that he’s a threat if he stands, but now that Louis realizes Harry was just playing along, he doesn’t think Harry will budge. If Louis knows anything about Harry, it’s that he’s almost as stubborn and hard-headed as Louis when he wants to be. 

"Louis would never have left this apartment or ignored me after what happened earlier," Harry says. His eyes fall on Louis while he talks, gaze moving along the length of Louis’ body as though he’s trying to determine the extent of Louis’ injuries. "He'd be right here gearing up for a fight with me. When I knocked, he would have opened that door and started yelling immediately about how he was managing just fine on his own and he was just trying to get the evidence I needed so I could bring those missing people home and lock Luke up. He would yell until he was hoarse, and talk over me if I tried to interrupt, and when he was finished, he'd let me hug him. We’d whisper to each other for a while, just sweet things, because what happened scared the shit out of him and he knows somewhere deep down in that stubborn body that I saved his ass, and then he’d let me take him to bed so we could forget everything bad that had happened and hold each other until we fell asleep."

Louis’ heart clenches. His eyes feel wet.

"So yeah, you stupid bastard, not opening the door was a major giveaway that something was amiss.” Harry continues, finally turning a much harsher gaze to Nick. “I stood out there listening as you tried to keep my boyfriend quiet, and then walked down the stairs and made you think I’d left the building."

“I—“ Nick begins, but Harry cuts him off.

"And if you think," Harry said slowly, "that I wouldn't be able to recognize the scent of Louis' blood from miles away by now, you're even less intelligent than I thought. And in the last ten minutes, I’ve revised my opinion on your intelligence quite a bit, so for it to go even lower is saying something."

Nick is silent for a moment, and he and Harry just stare at each other as though measuring each other up.

"I've known you for a long time, Harold," Nick said. Louis can see the shape of Harry's body shift slightly, almost as though he’s reacting angrily on instinct to Nick using an affectionate nickname after what he’s done, but he stifles his reaction and forces himself back into stillness.

When Nick continues, the triumph in his voice makes it clear that he had noticed Harry's reaction. "You're angry that I stole your little boyfriend, sure, but you're all bark and no bite. Your sympathy for humans has always disgusted me because it's nothing but a weakness. You're weak, and if you think you're actually going to manage to arrest me tonight, you're in for a rude awakening."

Harry smiles serenely at that and Louis can see the flash of his fangs. 

"Ah, so that's why you've done this," Harry says. "You're still pissed that you ended up in this unit because you don't care about crimes committed against humans. You think they're too far beneath you. And I bet you’re still bitter as hell that James made me the lead detective over you." 

Harry takes Nick’s angry silence as the admission that it is, and his smile grows.

Nick gets to his feet finally, once again holding up his hands as though he’s offering himself up, but Louis knows better. So does Harry.

When Nick goes in for the attack, Harry’s ready for it, though his posture didn’t change at all in the moments leading up to it. Nick lunges at Harry with the full force of his body, and when the two collide, it sounds like cement hitting cement. Louis flinches again involuntarily, and when he opens his eyes again, forcing himself to look at the sight in from of him, he sees chaos. 

Nick throws Harry back against the wall perpendicular to the entrance wall, and though Harry takes the hit, it doesn’t slow him down at all. Louis opens his eyes just in time to see Harry use the full force of his upper body strength to throw Nick back against the door a second time. He doesn’t give Nick even half a second to recover from the fall, either; instead, Harry immediately jumps on him.

Louis can barely tell what’s happening, but he can see the deep marks forming on both of their bodies from the impact of their violent clashes. Those injuries will all heal soon enough, of course, and Louis is watching the bruises fade before his very eyes, but that knowledge doesn’t make it any easier to watch.

“You’re an idiot,” Nick grits out, barely able to speak considering Harry’s hands are wrapped around his neck the same way Nick’s were wrapped around Louis’ neck earlier. Harry doesn’t bother acknowledging him, but Louis can see his jaw clenched, and when he looks closer, he can see Nick’s hand clutching at one of the hands around his neck with enough force to break the bones of Harry’s wrist. 

Still, Harry doesn’t let go. 

Louis hasn’t moved from the spot where he collapsed on the floor earlier, and it may be wise to try and duck for cover, but he doesn’t. Instead, he studies every visible muscle clenched in Nick’s body, every movement of his pupils, anything and everything that he is using against Harry in that moment.

Louis watches Nick’s gaze move down, so subtly that it’s hard to notice, but Louis sees it, even across the dim room, and he’s just about to warn Harry, but Harry’s already anticipated Nick’s next move. 

When Nick kicks out his leg toward Harry’s groin, Harry immediately moves one of the hands he has held around Nick’s neck to halt Nick’s movement, catching his leg and twisting it enough that Nick cries out from the pain of it. The pain doesn’t last long, of course, and it is barely a few seconds later that Nick gathers the rest of his strength — enough that he’s able to throw Harry backwards and off of him. 

Louis’ breath catches in his throat at the thought that Nick will simply be able to turn around and escape the apartment without further confrontation if he’s fast enough, but it doesn’t take long for both Louis and Nick to realize that Harry isn’t willing to give up that advantage. He doesn’t even wait to catch his breath or balance after being thrown back before he’s on top of Nick again, right up against the door, their bodies pressed together in a violent struggle, and Harry manages to get his hands behind Nick’s back and throw him away from the door, slamming him down face first to the floor. 

Once again, Harry is on him before he has the chance to move, putting all his weight on Nick’s back, and Louis watches as Harry pulls a sharp piece of wood out of his back pocket where it had been hidden beneath his shirt. He presses it against Nick’s back, just above where his heart is, and Nick immediately ceases his struggle. He knows it’s a stake, and he knows that moving even an inch will end in his death.

"You made a very foolish mistake in coming here," Harry said. His voice was calm, and if you didn't know him, you might think he was just carrying out an ordinary conversation, but Louis can hear the danger in his voice.

If the room weren't so dark, Louis knows he would be able to better see the slight furrow of Harry's brow, the aggressive posture of his body, and the clenched muscle in Harry's jaw, exposing his thinly veiled rage for anyone paying close enough attention.

"You'll never get a conviction without proof," Nick chokes out as Harry finally presses the wooden stake against Nick hard enough for it to penetrate his skin slightly. "It's the word of a disoriented human with extensive injuries, including a concussion judging by the blood on the back of his head, and his biased boyfriend against my word, and I have decades more experience in the force."

Harry laughs at that, digging the stake harder into Nick's back, moving it closer and closer to his heart.

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken, Grimshaw. See that phone lying on the floor over there? I bet you knocked it out of Louis' hand because you thought he was trying to call 911, or maybe just my number. But Louis, baby, that's not what you were doing at all, was it?" Harry's directs his eyes to Louis' face, looking at where he's folded up against the wall, but Louis can see the strain of his muscles as he continues holding Nick down, keeping his hand holding the stake steady.

"No," Louis says, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his ribs as he breathes. "I used that split second to open an app and hit the red button."

Nick momentarily stops struggling in his confusion, and Harry takes the opportunity to pull the wood out brutally and roughly tug Nick’s arms behind his back so he can cuff him.

As soon as Nick realizes what's happening, he begins struggling again, but it's too late. Harry snaps the handcuffs closed and shoves Nick's face into the floor again, this time hard enough to chip his front teeth before leaning in close.

"A recording app," Harry says softly, the smugness in his voice evident. 

Louis uses the last bit of his strength to drag himself over to his phone where it landed several feet away, and when he clicks the button to light it up, he feels overwhelmed with relief. The time on the audio recording is just over twenty minutes, indicating that every single word out of Nick's mouth since the second he hit the phone out of Louis' hand was recorded. A confession.

When Louis looks up from his phone, he sees Harry smiling at him knowingly. 

Louis calls 911 then, not wanting Harry to have to struggle to hold Nick down much longer. When he hangs up, he hears Harry speaking mockingly to Nick, who's face down still.

"That's what you and Luke and other vile vampires like you never understand, Nick," Harry says, chest heaving slightly from exertion. "You think that humans are inferior just because they don't have super strength or whatever else you think is important. You think that because they couldn't win a wrestling match against you, they have nothing to offer the world except their blood. But in the end, you and Luke were both outsmarted by a human, and you'll spend the rest of your miserable lives rotting in prison because you never saw it coming."

While they wait for the police to arrive, Louis pulls himself back to lean against the wall, unable to hold himself up any longer. His eyes keep fluttering closed before reopening, and Louis keeps seeing Harry giving him concerned looks from where he’s holding Nick down. 

“I’m fine,” Louis reassures him, eyes slipping closed again. And he does feel fine, actually. He thinks his body has entered a state of shock because he can’t feel the sting of his wounds, the throbbing of his broken wrist and ribs and head, or the ache from the bruises and strangulation marks on his body. He can’t feel anything.

It takes less than five minutes for the police to arrive, and when they burst through the door, Louis forces his eyes open. Perrie comes in first, immediately followed by Jeff and another vampire that Louis doesn’t recognize, and Harry gets up off of Nick finally and is at Louis’ side in seconds, kneeling down and looking at his body, trying to figure out how injured he is.

Perrie does the honor of dragging Nick up off the floor, but just before she does, she lets her pointed boot dig right into his balls, making him groan and curl up into himself slightly. “Sorry,” she says, smiling prettily, and even through his half-lidded eyes, Louis can see Jeff and the other vampire detective smirking. “My foot slipped,” she explains, and Louis hears Nick mutter something under his breath.

Perrie forces Nick to walk in front of her out the door, and Louis can hear her reading him his rights. He finally has the sense to close his mouth, and Louis watches the other vampire detective follow her out. Jeff stays in the apartment and walks over to Harry, who is kneeling by Louis’ side, dabbing at some of Louis’ cuts with a wet paper towel that he must have grabbed when Louis’ eyes slipped closed one of the times. Jeff and Harry speak to each other quickly, voices too quiet for Louis’ ears to detect, and then Louis hears Jeff leave the apartment as well.

There are faint sirens in the distance, suggesting that the ambulance is close, and Louis forces his eyes open again. Harry is hovering in front of him, brows furrowed and eyes wet, an overwhelming look of fear and concern overtaking each of his beautiful features. 

“You’re here,” Louis says stupidly, as though that hadn’t been made abundantly clear.

Harry squeezes his eyes closed and touches Louis’ good wrist, gently thumbing over his skin as though reassuring Louis that he’s real and that he’s not going anywhere. 

Louis doesn’t need the reassurance though. He knows.

“Yes,” Harry says, voice choked up. “I’m here, of course I’m here. There’s no where else I’d be.”

Louis sighs heavily, immediately regretting it when he feels the strain on his beaten ribs. 

“Louis,” Harry says, and Louis forces his eyes open again. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry’s voice sounds so raw and honest in the midst of the quiet destruction that surrounds them, and Louis’ body is overwhelmed by pain, but if it wasn’t, he’s certain he would be able to feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“I love you too,” Louis says, voice quiet and raspy from the damage done to his neck. 

“Yeah?” Harry says, smiling as he wipes some blood from the corner of Louis’ mouth.

“Don’t get cocky about it,” Louis says. His vision is spotty and Harry’s voice sounds very far away.

Harry laughs, eyes still wet with tears. “You hadn’t said. Before.”

“I was waiting on you,” Louis says, a small smile on his face, echoing what Harry had once said to him. He doesn’t have to look at Harry’s face to know that he recognizes the words, and that he’s smiling.

Louis can feel Harry’s fingers tracing a three on his good wrist, and he realizes suddenly that he’s not drawing a three, that he was never drawing a three. He’s drawing a heart. 

That's the last thought on Louis' mind before the spots in his vision ebb out everything else, finally plunging him into blissful darkness. 

 

\--

 

When Louis regains the consciousness, his awareness of his surroundings comes slowly. 

First, he hears a beeping noise, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that it’s probably the beeping of a monitor at the hospital. 

Second, he feels unusual pressure on his right wrist and his ribs, and it takes him a few more seconds to realize that his wrist has been put in a cast and his ribs have been wrapped to accelerate healing. 

Third, he smells the medicine and disinfectant that he recognizes as the scent of the hospital. 

Fourth, he feels the hand on his left hand being held by two larger hands, fingers tracing hearts on his skin.

Louis doesn’t have to open his eyes to know who those larger hands belong to, but he does anyway. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust to bright lights of the room and the sun shining through the windows, but when they focus, his gaze immediately settles on Harry’s face.

“Hi,” Harry says breathlessly, and Louis smiles.

“Hi,” he replies.

They just stare at each other for a few seconds, taking in the sight of one another alive and whole, despite everything that happened. Louis’ mind runs back through everything he remembers, and the memories are slightly hazy from the pain that he had been experiences, but the flashes give him the main idea — Luke was caught, Luke was arrested, Nick helped Luke, Nick wanted to take Louis, Nick threw him around, Harry showed up, Harry pretended to leave, Harry broke in, Nick was arrested.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Harry asks, moving one hand up to brush Louis’ fringe out of his face. Louis can’t imagine how much of a mess he must look like right now, but Harry is still looking at him like he’s never seen anything better.

“I’m feeling like I got beaten up by a vampire or two,” Louis says, and he’s pleased to hear that his voice is less raspy than it had been immediately after Nick had wrapped his hands around his neck. “How long have I been here?” He asks, frowning. He feels like he was asleep for a year, but he’s pretty sure that guess is off.

“About sixteen hours,” Harry says. “When you got to the hospital, they gave you a heavy dose of pain medication because of how bad your injuries were. Serious bruising and cuts all over your body, damage to your neck and vocal cords from when he tried to strangle you, broken ribs, a broken wrist, and a concussion. They thought you might have serious internal bleeding as well, bad enough that it would require surgery, but thankfully it was minor and it stopped on its own.”

It looks like it’s causing Harry pain to even mention Louis’ pain, so Louis squeezes his hand.

“So I’m gonna be fine,” he says, and Harry nods.

“You’ll make a full recovery,” he confirms. “I just wish I’d gotten there sooner so you wouldn’t have gotten as badly hurt as you did.”

Louis shakes his head too quickly and winces at how much it hurts to move his head and neck like that. 

“You saved my life, babe,” Louis says, unwilling to listen to Harry play the ‘what if’ game. After what they survived, and how close it could have been to ending terribly for either of them, there’s no reason for them to be anything but grateful and happy.

Harry hums and leans forward, kissing Louis gently on his cheekbone. It must be one of the few patches of skin on Louis’ face that isn’t bruised or cut because Louis isn’t in any pain from the gesture.

When Harry leans back again, Louis takes in his appearance. He looks more disheveled than Louis has ever seen him, even in the weeks leading up to last night when Harry was stressing about the case constantly. His hair is messy, likely from Harry running his fingers through it anxiously over and over, and it’s clear that he hasn’t even left Louis’ side to go shower. Someone must have at least brought him a change of clothes, as his outfit is different and there’s none of Louis’ blood on his shirt, but the clothes are still wrinkled from where he’s been settled in the hospital chair for hours. He looks exhausted and wound up, like he’s been beating himself up emotionally as much as Nick beat Louis up physically, and Louis wishes he could move enough to give Harry an enormous and long-lasting hug.

“Why’d you come back to my apartment so soon?” Louis asks suddenly, asking one of the first questions that popped into his head. Louis hadn’t expected Harry back for a few hours while he dealt with Luke at the police station, but he showed up in almost no time at all. If he’d arrived even just half an hour later, Louis might have already been shipped off to whatever disgusting vampire in the mid-west Nick sold him to.

Harry holds Louis’ good hand up to his mouth and kisses it.

“I can’t explain it,” Harry says, frowning as he thinks. “I just had a feeling that I wasn’t where I needed to be, so when Perrie got back from dropping you off, I asked her to finish booking Luke and then I went straight home.” 

Louis’ can’t help the smile that forms when he hears Harry referring to his apartment as home.

“You’ve got good instincts,” Louis says proudly, but Harry scoffs. “You do,” Louis insists. “You knew it was two vampires perpetrating this all along, you didn’t trust or like Luke from the first time you laid eyes on him, you sensed when I needed you last night, you figured out what Nick’s motivation was immediately, and you knew that I’d recorded his confession before I’d even thought to mention it. You did so good, Harry.”

Harry sighs and gently pushes the hair out of Louis’ face again, but he doesn’t disagree. That’s progress in Louis’ book, though he knows he’ll be spending the upcoming days and weeks reassuring Harry that he did everything he could and that there’s nothing for him to regret or feel bad about. 

“I love you,” Harry says, and Louis feels butterflies erupt inside his stomach again.

“I love you too,” he says, suddenly feeling an overwhelming rush of gratitude that he’s alive and able to tell Harry this again when last night, he wasn’t sure whether he’d even get to lay eyes on Harry’s face again.

Harry leans over and kisses him, such a soft touch of lips on lips that Louis can barely feel it, let alone be hurt by it, and when Harry pulls back, they’re both smiling ear to ear. Harry’s smile fades into something sadder very quickly though.

“I almost lost you,” Harry says, voice serious, and Louis doesn’t know whether he means that Louis almost died, or was almost shipped off to some stranger’s home hundreds upon hundreds of miles away, but he supposes that it doesn’t matter either way because Louis’ response is the same.

“But you didn’t,” he says quietly, squeezing Harry’s hand again with as much strength as he can muster.

Harry doesn’t say anything more, and Louis doesn’t either, but they hold onto each other’s hands and take in the sight of each other’s faces, and as the sun begins to set and Harry uses his badge as a reason to stay long past visiting hours are over, the awareness of what they almost lost hangs in the air around them. It’s a presence in the room that carries a lot of weight, but that weight doesn’t bring them down.

It brings them closer and closer together.

 

\--

 

"For the record, I hate this," Harry says for what feels like the twentieth time, and Louis groans exaggeratedly.

"For the record, nobody asked," Louis retorts, ignoring Harry's huff in response. "Right there!" He says, pointing at empty parking spot that just opened up across the street.

Harry immediately does a U-turn and parallel parks in the space with an ease that only comes when you've been driving for like fifty-five years. It's still a little impressive, but Louis won't admit that.

When Harry turns the car off, he goes to feed the meter with a pout on his face, and Louis rolls his eyes.

“I’m not going to talk to him for long, okay? I promise,” Louis says, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist as Harry lets his fall across Louis’ shoulders. Harry makes a sound of distaste at the idea of Louis talking to him for any length of time, but he gives Louis a quick kiss on the side of his head while they walk anyway. 

When they get into the police station, James comes out of his office to give Louis a big hug and thank him again for what he did with Luke and for recording Nick’s confession. He’d dropped by the hospital when Louis was still there, but Louis was still pretty doped up on pain medication, so he wants to make sure that he thanks Louis again when he’s fully conscious and aware.

“But don’t pull a stunt like that ever again,” James says, smiling ear to ear. “I don’t need my lead detective to be the first vampire to die of a heart attack in the history of vampirism.” He elbows Harry in the side when he says that, and Harry just huffs and tries to keep the smile off his face. 

“Yeah, next time, maybe don’t try to solve a vampire criminal case on your own, okay, baby?” Harry asks, wrapping his arm around Louis’ shoulders again.

Louis shrugs him off.

“Next time, don’t partner with a future human trafficker,” Louis shoots back. He hears James chuckle.

“Next time, don’t date a future human trafficker,” Harry says, and the look on his face when he says it makes it clear that he thinks he’s roasted Louis to an irredeemable state. 

“Well, since you’re the person I’m dating right now, honey, maybe you should reassure me that you’re not going to go off the deep end in the future and—“

James cuts Louis off with a wave of his hand. “You two are too much,” he says, and Louis can tell he’s trying to sound stern, but he’s looking at Louis and Harry like they’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “I’m not sure if this is your idea of a mating ritual or something, but I’ve got work to do, so I’m going to leave you to it.” 

With that, James gives Louis a friendly pat on the shoulder and disappears back inside his office. 

“Why does everyone always think that arguing is our version of a mating ritual?” Louis asks, frowning at the closed door to James’ office.

“Because it is,” Harry whispers into Louis’ ear, checking around stealthily to make sure nobody is watching before reaching down and pinching Louis on the ass. Louis isn’t expecting it, despite everything he knows about Harry, so he jumps and swats Harry’s hand away.

“Stop trying to distract me, you asshole,” Louis demands, and Harry shrugs, not bothering to deny that that’s what he was trying to do.

He leads Louis to a room with a chair facing a glass window, and on the other side of the glass, Luke is sitting handcuffed. Harry told Louis previously that Luke’s legs are also chained together with silver chains so there’s no chance of him going anywhere, but Louis can’t help the gut reaction of fear when he sees him.

“Y’alright?” Harry says, grasping his wrist, face concerned.

Louis nods.

“Okay, well, I’m going to be standing right outside the door. If you need me or you’re ready to leave, just say the word and I’ll be able to hear you.” He leans in to kiss Louis once and Louis lets his eyes close, though it only lasts a few seconds. When Louis pulls back, Harry steps outside the door and closes it behind him. He stands outside in the hallway, still visible through the glass window in the door, and it’s reassuring. 

Louis finally turns around and walks over to the chair, but he doesn’t make eye contact with Luke until he sits down. 

When he finally does, he’s somehow surprised to see the exact same face looking back at him that he always saw previously. He isn’t sure what he expected, but he thought something would look different about Luke — that he’d look more pale, worn down, or exhausted than he ever did before. He looks normal though, except that he’s in a prison jumpsuit rather than normal clothing.

His fangs are out, and Louis can’t help but laugh at that, some of the anxiety fluttering away. He picks up the phone and watches while Luke picks up the one on his side of the glass.

“The fangs lose their intimidation factor when your wrists are cuffed and your legs are chained, Luke. I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out yet, but then again, there’s a lot you haven’t figured out,” Louis says, his voice gaining confidence with every word. 

Luke licks his fangs slowly and smiles. 

“What is that you want, sweetheart?” He asks, voice mocking. 

Louis grits his teeth in annoyance and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He glances behind him at the window, and Harry is paying enough attention to what’s happening inside that he notices Louis looking at him right away. He crosses his eyes and sticks his tongue out so Louis smiles before turning back to Luke.. 

“I want to know why you did it,” he says. Luke leans back in his chair and laughs slightly, as though he can’t believe Louis actually came all the way to the police station just to hear that explanation. 

“It was a great paycheck,” Luke says finally, shrugging. “And that’s all there is to it, Louis. I’m sorry to say that I don’t have some deep reason for taking those people. Sometimes, it just is what it is. It was good money, it was an easy task, and honestly, it was pretty entertaining overall. That’s it. That’s why I did it.”

Louis figured as much, but he can’t help but shake his head upon hearing it out loud. He can’t believe that he ever thought he knew the vampire in front of him, that he ever thought that they could be together, that he thought he could love and be happy with this person. Louis’ glad he got out when he did. 

“You know,” Louis says, leaning forward and looking Luke right in the eye through the glass. “I never realized when we were together just how pathetic you were, but I’m glad I know now. It makes so many things clear in hindsight.” 

Luke’s fangs retract for a moment and a look of disbelief crosses his face, and that feels good. 

“Me? Pathetic? If your stupid boyfriend hadn’t gotten there when he did, you would be dead right now. You and every other human — you’re nothing compared to vampires. You aren’t worth a goddamn thing,” Luke spits, and back when they were dating, this is type of thing that would have sent Louis reeling. 

Now, though. Now it just makes him laugh.

Louis shakes his head and allows himself to chuckle.

“You wouldn’t be in here if it weren’t for me. Yeah, Harry is the one who locked you up and threw away the key, but I’m the one who figured out it was you. I’m the one who got the evidence because you were stupid enough to fall for my silly little human tricks. You were so overconfident that you immediately believed I’d come crawling back to your bed. Even after how much I made it clear I hated you, you still believed it. And you displayed a much greater weakness than any that I have, Luke. Even as a measly little human.”

Luke’s fangs haven’t descended again, almost like he’s so distracted by what Louis’ saying that he cant even think about trying to be intimidating, and for a moment, while his brain absorbs Louis’ spiel and his eyes flash with anger, he looks so startlingly human that it makes Louis’ breath catch. 

“You’re just a man, Luke,” Louis says, the revelation coming just as the words do. “Vampire or human, it doesn’t make any difference in the end. You’re still just a man, and you’re still subject to so many of the same weaknesses. Vanity, ignorance, prejudice, overconfidence, selfishness, lack of empathy. Those are human weaknesses, but you made it clear that they’re vampire weaknesses too,” Louis says. 

Luke looks like he wants to interrupt, but Louis cuts him off.

“If anything, the fact that you’re a vampire and can hide behind vampire strengths only made it worse for you. It took longer for your weaknesses to be exposed, sure, but damn, they came out in the worst way,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair again and shaking his head with pity.

“Your vampire boyfriend sure did a number on you,” Luke says with disgust. “He made you think you’re worth something, and you know what that means, don’t you, Lou? When he’s gone, that worth will crumble.” 

Louis chuckles again and gets to his feet, keeping the phone pressed to his ear.

“Oh Luke,” he says, voice amused. “You still don’t get it. I figured out for myself that I was worth something long before I even met Harry. He was just the first vampire I’d met in a while who believed it too.” 

Louis hangs the phone up and turns around with the intention of walking to the door and telling Harry he’s done. He stops himself though, and turns back for just a moment, picking the phone back up. Luke still has his to his ear.

“Give Nick my regards, by the way,” Louis says. “And enjoy your thirty-four consecutive life sentences. Maybe that’ll give you both enough time to participate in some self-reflection. It’s obvious that you need it.”

With that, he hangs up the phone and walks out of the room without so much as another glance at his ex-boyfriend behind the glass, and when the door swings shut behind him upon entering the hallway, it feels symbolic. Louis’ past and all the bitterness he holds toward Luke and other vampires is a chapter of his own life story slamming closed behind him, and it couldn’t feel more right.

“Ready to go?” Harry asks, eyebrows raised.

Louis smiles and nods. They leave the police station hand in hand.

 

\--

 

"I'm all healed," Louis says, splaying back on the couch dramatically. "Well, except for my wrist, but this brace is practically nothing...so you can finally have your way with me now." 

He flutters his eyelashes as he speaks, expecting that the overdramatic damsel act will make Harry giggle.

Instead, Harry trips over his feet on his way over to the couch, too preoccupied with staring at Louis to pay attention to what he's doing, and tumbles down on the couch. He lands in a pile of limbs on top of Louis, and though he puts his hands out in an attempt to catch himself, he still ends up crushing Louis slightly, knocking the wind right out of him.

"Jesus," Louis gasps out when Harry rolls off of him, face apologetic. "Well, now I might need to go back to the hospital."

Harry frowns, concerned.

"I'm sorry, baby," he says, about to launch into a very slow and drawn out apology. 

Louis just shakes his head and laughs. "I'm fine, I'm just kidding," he says, leaning in to kiss Harry's pouting face. "I was hoping for this to be like, a romantic thing. Your flying limbs fucked that up a bit though."

Harry gets a thoughtful look on his face and gets to his feet, immediately bending down to pluck Louis up off the couch and carry him the bedroom. 

“I’ll show you romantic,” he says as Louis laughs, his arms wrapped around Harry’s neck.

Harry manages to make it to the bed without any further klutziness, and he sets Louis down gently before leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the nose. Louis clutches the front of Harry’s shirt, trying to keep him there, but Harry gently pries Louis’ hands off of him. 

“One minute,” he promises, and Louis watches as he moves around the room at super speed, lighting candles on what seems like every furniture surface. While Harry gets their satanic ritual or whatever it is he’s aiming for going, Louis decides to make productive use of his time. He strips, pulling his shirt and jeans off, immediately followed by his socks and boxers, and by the time Harry comes to a stop at the end of the bed, Louis is lounging naked, his legs slightly spread apart, completely exposed and unashamed. 

“I love you,” Harry says, voice awed, and Louis just smirks and strokes his cock. Harry stares for a few more seconds as though it’s the first time he’s seeing Louis naked, and eventually, Louis gets too impatient. 

“I love you too,” Louis says. “But I’ll love you even more if you hurry up and get naked.” 

Harry grins and waggles his eyebrows, but he starts undressing, pulling off the frilly white blouse and pants that Louis assumes are cutting off the blood flow to his dick.

Not right now, apparently, as is clear from Harry’s hard cock, but other times. 

When Harry is finally naked, Louis reaches up and pulls him down onto the bed, Harry falling between his open thighs, right where he belongs. Harry reaches down and brushes Louis’ fringe out of his face softly, and Louis gives him a private smile before leaning up to kiss him. 

They kiss slowly, licking into each other’s mouths and hands moving all over each other’s bodies, rememorizing the feeling. They’ve showered and taken baths together since Louis was hurt, but Harry was always terrified of accidentally setting back Louis’ healing process, so he limited touching to an almost intolerable level. It’s been far too long since they were able to touch each other properly without fear of prodding one of Louis’ bruises or putting too much pressure on his broken ribs, but now, they’re free to touch each other to their hearts content. 

“Missed this,” Louis gasps out as Harry moves his lips down to Louis’ neck. One of Louis’ hands is twisted in Harry’s hair and the other is gripping his shoulder roughly, nails digging in. 

“God, me too,” Harry breathes. “You have no idea.” Louis can feel Harry’s breath against the spot on his neck that he always likes to bite, but he can tell that Harry is holding back, waiting for Louis’ express permission.

“So take what you want,” Louis says, tilting his head to give Harry greater access.

“I want a lot of things,” Harry says, and he has that smug tone that Louis used to want to slap out of his mouth. Or at least, Louis tried to convince himself that was what he wanted. “I want to drink your blood, I want to kiss you, I want to eat you out, I want to blow you, I want to fuck you, I want to marry you, I want to—“

Louis cuts him off by shoving uselessly at his shoulders. “Oh my god, shut up,” Louis says, laughing again. “Drink from me, okay, babe? I know you want to, and you know I want you to, so...”

Louis doesn’t have to finish the sentence before he feels Harry’s teeth descend.

“Your wish is my command,” Harry says, still smug, and that’s when he bites down. 

Louis moans, arching his back and creating friction between his and Harry’s cocks that makes Harry pull back for a second, panting and clearly afraid that he was going to bite down too hard.

“You’re too much for me,” Harry groans before digging back in, and Louis lets his eyelids flutter closed. 

“You’ll have to learn how to keep up with me one of these days, old man,” Louis says softly, too busy enjoying the way it feels for Harry to drink from him to offer the full brunt of his sass. Harry also refused to drink from Louis while he was recovering, as he wanted Louis’ body to have everything it could possibly need to heal. Not to mention that the medicine Louis was taking probably made him taste a bit off. 

“Mmmm,” is all Harry mumbles in response to Louis’ age dig, but he pulls off Louis’ neck soon after.

His fangs are still out, and Louis can tell he’s about to retract them, but Louis shakes his head. 

“Just let me appreciate you for a minute,” he says, looking up at Harry’s face above him. His eyes are sparkling with happiness, as green and gorgeous as ever, his soft pale skin is glowing in the candlelight, his dimple is showing, and his fangs are protruding past his lips, sharp and pointy and somehow adorable, despite the fact that Louis knows they’re lethal and will cut right through skin without difficulty. 

Harry is beautiful. The most beautiful vampire Louis has ever seen, both inside and out, and Louis doesn’t really understand how there isn’t a thing about Harry he would change if he could, but somehow it’s true. He loves everything about this sometimes cocky, often infuriating, always good vampire, and he knows deep in his bones that he always will, and that is really something.

“Make love to me,” Louis says, pulling Harry’s face down to him and barely giving him half a second to retract his fangs before Louis is kissing him. Louis has never referred to sex as “making love” in his life — that’s more Harry’s style — but he doesn’t know how he can possibly call what happens between them anything else.

Harry rolls off of Louis for a second to pull the lube out of the side table drawer. He tosses it on the bed next to Louis’ body and then reaches into the drawer a second time, clearly trying to dig for a condom.

Louis tugs Harry’s hand out of the drawer, and when Harry frowns at him in confusion, Louis just shakes his head and smiles. He enjoys watching the realization dawn on Harry, and when the look of pure happiness crosses his face, dimple reappearing, it warms Louis’ heart, because he knows that Harry isn’t just happy about finally getting to come inside Louis. 

He’s happy because he knows what it means to Louis. What it means to both of them. 

“Love you,” Louis breathes as Harry takes the lube and kneels between Louis’ spread legs. His voice is too soft for a human to hear, but Louis knows Harry’s vampire ears pick up on it when he smiles.

“I’m going to love you forever,” Harry promises. Louis’ gut twists at those words, but Harry doesn’t give him a chance to recover, instead putting his mouth on Louis’ cock and gently putting one finger inside him without warning. It stings a little, of course, but it feels so overwhelmingly good to have Harry inside of him, even just a small part of him, that Louis is extremely unbothered. 

Harry’s mouth is quite the distraction as he opens Louis up with one finger, and then two, and Harry hasn’t really blown Louis before, but clearly that’s not because Harry’s talents with his mouth are limited to the neck and ass. 

Harry sucks gently at the head and flicks his tongue in and out of the slit before surprising Louis by taking him down all the way, and Louis is so incredibly overwhelmed and unable to keep up with what Harry’s doing with his mouth that he barely even notices when Harry slides a third finger in.

Louis is getting dangerously close to coming, so he yanks the strands of Harry’s hair on the back of his head slightly, knowing that Harry will understand the warning for what it is. Sure enough, he pulls off of Louis’ cock and looks up with a smile. 

“You sure you’re good to go?” Harry asks, but he’s already slicking up his cock.

Louis nods, still too overwhelmed on to find the words, and Harry smirks.

Harry braces himself above Louis’ body on his elbows and kisses Louis thoroughly, sucking on his tongue and biting his bottom lip with his normal teeth, and Louis is tired of Harry having the upper hand. He pushes Harry back slightly, just enough that their lips separate, and buries his face in Harry’s neck, sucking hard at the skin there.

Louis knows that giving Harry love bites is pointless considering they’ll fade within minutes, but he can tell it still feels good by the way Harry’s whimpering. That’s not quite enough for Louis, however, not after Harry made him a whimpering writhing mess a minute ago or so ago with his mouth, so Louis also takes the opportunity to wrap his legs around Harry’s hips and reach down with one hand to grab Harry’s slicked up cock. Harry startles when Louis takes a hold of him, and when Louis guides Harry’s cock toward his hole, Harry gives a full body shudder.

“C’mon,” Louis demands, and as usual, Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He pushes into Louis’ body with one long stroke, and Louis loses his breath with the surprise and sting of it, but it feels so fucking good.

Harry pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in, and that’s when Louis fully realizes that this is the first time he’s ever had someone bare inside him. Objectively, he’s willing to acknowledge that it doesn’t feel all that different, especially since Harry used an excess of lube, but Louis still feels connected to Harry in a way that he’s never felt with anyone before. He can tell Harry feels the same by the way his eyes are shining, face completely overwhelmed in a way that Louis’ never seen before. 

As Harry thrusts inside him steadily, grazing his prostate with unnerving accuracy, they quickly reach a point where they’re not even able to kiss properly, instead simply panting into each other’s mouths and gasping every time Harry aims a particularly good thrust. 

There’s nothing else like Harry inside him, and Louis keeps his eyes closed and revels in the feeling of it. It’s not just that Harry’s cock is big, or that he fills Louis up perfectly, or that he goes nice and deep, or that he always hits that spot inside of Louis that makes his knees weak and his toes curl. All of those things apply, of course, but really, it’s the entire package that is Harry Styles, from his cock to his hands to his mouth to his mind to his enormous heart — all of it is part of what makes every night with him the best night of Louis’ life.

“Let’s not go without this for so long ever again,” Louis says suddenly, his voice shaky, and Harry gives an equally shaky laugh in return. 

“Ideally, you won’t almost get yourself killed again,” Harry says, and Louis somehow manages an eye roll despite the fact that it feels like he’s about three seconds away from completely losing his mind with pleasure. “So that won’t be an issue.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Louis says, and Harry leans down to kiss him again firmly on the mouth.

“No, you shut the fuck up,” Harry whispers against his lips, halting his movement inside Louis for a moment.

Louis wiggles slightly, about to protest, but Harry moves his hands from where they’re braced on the bed on either side of Louis and uses them to pin Louis’ wrists to the sheets on either side of his body. 

“I hate being manhandled,” Louis mutters bitterly, struggling to move his hands out from Harry’s grip and getting harder when he sees that it’s requiring no effort for Harry to hold them down.

“I hate liars,” Harry fires back, finally picking up his thrusts again, arrogance coloring every syllable out of his mouth. Louis surges up to kiss him, licking at his bottom lip. They kiss until Louis’ lips are chapped, and that’s when Louis finally reaches down to touch himself for the first time since Harry was lighting the candles. 

He experiences a full body shudder when he first gets his hand around is cock, and Harry chooses that moment to lean down to bury his face in Louis’ neck again, right where the bite mark is. Louis can feel his breath and knows what’s coming, anticipation and his impending orgasm building in his gut, but instead of biting down right away, Harry whispers something that Louis’ ears only just catch.

“Love you so much, baby,” he whispers, thrusting in as he speaks, and Louis comes.

Harry jerks his head back from Louis’ neck immediately, clearly shocked that Louis got off before he even bit down again. Louis clenches down around him again, another pulse of come splattering on his stomach, and Harry can’t stay atop the waves anymore, allowing them to pull him down with Louis.

The feeling of Harry coming inside him for the first time, making him wetter and more full than he’s ever been before, is a sensation that Louis will never forget. By the way Harry groans and his eyes widen before closing tightly, Louis is certain that he’ll never forget it either.

They lay there for a few minutes, just catching their breaths, and when Harry finally pulls out, Louis squirms at the feeling of come leaking out of him. Harry reaches down and swipes his finger through the mess, pushing some of it back inside Louis’ worn out hole with two fingers, clearly enjoying the feeling of it and the knowledge that Harry did that to him, and Louis shivers.

When Harry rolls onto his side next to Louis, who’s still sprawled out on his back and likely will be for a while, Louis turns his head to look at him and sees the big smile on his face.

“You came before I bit you,” Harry says, and he’s clearly very proud of himself, voice cocky as ever. Louis will let him have this though. Just this once.

“I guess I found something that gets me hotter than even vampire bites,” Louis says, turning on his side himself so that he and Harry are facing each other, faces only a few inches apart.

“What’s that?” Harry says, dimpling. 

“Our love,” Louis says simply, not even the least bit embarrassed by how sappy he's being. 

When he moves in to kiss Harry, Harry meets him halfway.

 

\--

 

In what feels like the blink of an eye, it’s the opening night of _Grease_. 

The students are hyped beyond belief, running around and chatting loudly and trying to pretend they’re less nervous than they are even as their hands are shaking. Louis is stressed beyond belief, chasing after students and tying up the backs of costumes and tracking down props and trying to reassure the students that everything will go perfectly even as he’s bricking it himself. 

Harry, Zayn, Liam, Steve, Jeff, and Perrie are all in attendance, and just before the show, they duck backstage to visit Louis, who is standing in the midst of the chaos barking out orders. 

“Do you regret not doing _Fame_?” Those are the first words out of Zayn’s mouth when they track Louis down, and Zayn has to use his vampire speed to avoid getting hit over the head with Louis’ clipboard. 

They all laugh at that, of course, and Louis is going to make Zayn pay for that later, but it’s a good reminder to Louis of why he’s here. He fucking loves _Grease_ because it’s an incredible musical, and after working tirelessly on this performance for months, Louis knows his students are ready. Everything is whirling around him and it’s overwhelming and there might be missteps and mistakes, but they’re ready, and no matter what, the play is going to be amazing. Louis doesn’t regret a thing about picking this play, and his students will prove why in just a few short minutes.

His friends all take turns giving him hugs and telling him to break a leg, and Louis lets their words of encouragement wash over him, hoping that they will give him the strength to get through the many challenges he’s expecting to face throughout opening night and the next few nights of performances.

“Dude, a few months ago, you helped put two vampires in prison and bring a lot of kidnapped people home, so I don’t know why the fuck you’re worried about a high school musical. You and the students are going to kill it. I know it, you know it, everybody knows it. So just remember to enjoy it, okay?” Niall says, and Louis hugs him extra tight.

Once all their friends have wandered away to go find their seats before the lights go down, Harry stays behind for a minute or two. Louis’ students have seen Harry around enough over the past few months to know that when the sappiest couple ever is together, it’s best for them to keep their distance, so for a blissful two minutes or so, Louis’ students don’t bother him.

“I’m so proud of you,” Harry says, punctuating each word with a kiss to Louis’s forehead, cheeks, and nose. Finally, he goes in for what Louis really wants, giving him a long kiss on the lips. 

“Thanks for putting up with me,” Louis says, knowing that he hasn’t been the easiest person to be around over the past couple of weeks, as his nerves and stress grew with each tick of the clock toward opening night. 

Harry laughs and shakes his head.

“I put up with you because I love you,” he says. “Everything is going to go wonderfully, and then it will go even better tomorrow, and even better the day after, and then even better on closing night. And I’ll be here every night watching you and your students put on the best show of _Grease_ the world has ever seen.”

Louis surges forward and kisses him again. 

“I love you more,” he says, and when Harry makes a noise of protest that suggests he’s about to argue, Louis pushes at his chest. “Go take your seat! The show is about to start.” 

Harry rolls his eyes and kisses Louis one more time, but he follows Louis’ command, disappearing out the door and likely reaching his seat across the auditorium a second or two later thanks to his vampire speed.

“I can’t imagine what the last few weeks would’ve been like if you were still sexually frustrated,” someone says behind Louis, and he spins around. It’s Aiden, his student and the play’s very own Danny Zuko. 

Louis glares at him.

“If you don’t knock your performance out of the park every night this week, you’re getting a detention for that inappropriate little comment,” Louis says, wagging his finger at Aiden. “Now go take your place onstage — the curtains are about to open.” 

Aiden winks and runs off. Louis rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

 

\--

 

After the play, Harry finds him again.

The play went perfectly aside from a few small hiccups, but they were all minor enough that the audience didn’t notice, so when Harry meets Louis backstage nearly an hour after the performance ends, having waited just long enough for Louis to finish up his duties and for most of the students to have gone home, he’s smiling wide. 

“Congratulations, baby,” Harry says, picking Louis up and twirling him around a few times. 

Louis laughs, and when Harry puts him down, he kisses him immediately. 

“Thanks for coming, babe,” Louis says, and Harry smiles softly at him.

Louis pulls Harry into a hug, hoping that his body will convey how thankful Louis is to have him.

“There really aren’t words for how much I love you,” Louis says, too overwhelmed with happiness at the success of the night to keep the sappiness from flowing out of him.

Harry responds with some sappiness of his own, of course, never one to be outmaneuvered. 

“A lifetime with you is never going to feel like enough,” Harry says honestly, pulling Louis tighter against him and burying his face in Louis’ neck. His fingers are tapping a rhythm against his skin and his breath is tickling Louis’ neck. Louis smiles to himself.

“I guess it’s good that you’re going to have me for longer than that, then,” Louis says.

He feels the exact moment that Harry registers the meaning of his words because his fingers stop tapping and tighten their hold on Louis’ body. Harry pulls his head back from Louis’ neck slowly, a look of complete and utter shock on his face. 

Louis smiles and shrugs, confirming the decision he recently made, and Harry kisses him fiercely, unable to resist. Louis kisses him back with just as much passion, nipping at Harry’s lips and sucking on his tongue. They don’t break apart for several minutes, too resistant to the idea of pulling their mouths away from each other for even a second, and when they do separate, it’s only because Louis needs to catch his breath.

“I can’t believe we made it here,” Louis says after a moment. “After everything we’ve been through, and after how much I tried to fight what was between us, we’re still here together, and happy, and planning for a lifetime together. It’s amazing, isn’t it? And all because you were willing to wait for me.” 

“You were worth the wait,” Harry says, and his smile is overwhelmingly fond. 

“Nah,” Louis says, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck as Harry’s hands find their usual spot on his hips. Harry kisses him deeply again, not having registered what he said quite yet, but it doesn’t take him long to pull back.

“You disagree?” Harry asks, his brows furrowed. 

Louis thinks about how annoyed he was with Harry when he first met him, and how despite that, Harry weaseled his way into his heart and made every day with him as unforgettable as the last. He thinks about the awful and terrifying things they’ve gone through together, and how despite that, they came out of it stronger and proved that they'd be willing to do anything to protect one another. He thinks about how long it took him to admit his feelings, and how Harry waited patiently because despite all the crap that Louis threw at him, he somehow realized that whenever it happened, whenever they eventually got together, they would be something incredible. 

“ _We_ were worth the wait,” Louis clarifies finally. 

Harry’s eyes are wet, or maybe Louis’ eyes are wet, or maybe it’s both of them, but right now, it doesn’t matter. They stay there backstage holding one another for a long time, just kissing and whispering together softly, long after the custodial staff powers down the lights. 

Eventually, they seem to realize that they’re standing in a dark room with nothing but the glowing red of the exit sign to light their way. They should unwrap their limbs from around each other and get into a car and go back home, probably. They should fall down into their bed and cuddle until they fall asleep, or talk about anything and everything they can think of until their eyes are too tired to stay open, or make love until the sun rises. 

They should do all that, and they will, but right now, they’re content to just stand there, holding each other.

And anyway, there’s no rush.

They’re going to have an eternity together, after all. They have nothing but time.

 

\--

**Author's Note:**

> This fic ruined my life for seven months straight, but I hope at least a few people enjoyed the finished product. Thank you Miles (who I could never have finished this fic without), Seb, and all the lovely people who put up with me constantly complaining about this fic and pushing back the posting date. I've appreciated your encouragement so much and I hope I didn't let you down.
> 
> If you want to find me on Tumblr, you can find my blog [here](http://lads-laddylads.tumblr.com). 
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic and want to reblog the post for it, you can find my photoset [here](http://lads-laddylads.tumblr.com/post/160931466823/title-waiting-on-you-rating-explicit-word-count).
> 
>  **Note:** I'm not authorizing translations at this time. Also, please do not repost this fic on any other site.


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